Lightning Crashes
by John Hitchens
Summary: A birth heralds the coming of Crystal Tokyo


Prologue - Donnae Mysteriarum  
  
  
"...all of life is only a little, no long-term plans are allowed.  
Soon night and half-remembered shapes and drab   
Pluto's walls will be closing in..."  
- Horace, Odes I,4  
  
  
"Isn't it a beautiful evening?", the woman asked her companion,  
looking up into his face and snuggling closer under his arm.  
  
"Yes", agreed the serious-faced man, "but not as beautiful as you."   
  
They both laughed at his corny remark, her laugh a high-pitched  
giggle, his a throaty chuckle. She always thought he looked especially  
handsome when he smiled, which is one of the reasons she always tried so  
hard to get him to open up. He was a tall man, slim-waisted, with broad  
shoulders hinting at a latent strength. His face had an almost hard,  
predatory look about it, softened only by crinkling eyes and boyish  
features.  
  
She was small, slender, and exuberant, a bubbly contrast to his  
sobriety. Her beauty was remarkable, and was covertly watched by many of  
the young men passing by the couple. She herself was oblivious to her  
looks, as she was always focused outwards, not inwards.  
  
It certainly was a beautiful evening. It was a calm Saturday night at  
the end of September. The leaves were turning, their riotous splendour  
framing the placidly rippling lake at their feet, their garish colours  
matching the burnished hues of the rapidly sinking sun. A gentle breeze  
drifted the faintly intoxicating smell of wood smoke towards the couple.   
Venus hung brightly in the sky, shining its brilliance in defiance of the  
dying sun. Discreetly placed benches dotted the shoreline. The couple  
walked to the nearest, and sat down.  
  
They sat there, huddled, in a long, companiable silence, watching the  
sunset. To outside observers, they seemed to contain paradoxical traits;  
the easy familiarity of a long-married couple, and the passionate intensity  
of newlyweds. In that purple twilight just after the sun dropped beneath  
the horizon, a faint star-like object popped into view, as if the sun was a  
veil behind which it was hiding.  
  
"There!", exclaimed the woman, pointing at it. "Mercury's finally  
appeared!"  
  
"Yes, it looks like they're all here", the man agreed. He swept his  
free arm across the horizon in a controlled motion. "Starlike Saturn,  
brilliant Jupiter, flaming Mars," here he allowed himself a chuckle,  
"shining Venus and tiny Mercury, all in the sky at the same time."  
  
  
"It's breathtaking", she said. "Do you think it means anything?"  
  
"It's certainly propitious", he remarked. "But I'm waiting for  
something more special."  
  
"What?" He remained silent. After a few minutes, she tried again.   
"What are you waiting for?"  
  
He finally acknowledged her. "That", he replied, pointing to the  
rising moon. "A famous Greek poet, Sappho, stated my heart's desire: 'Awed  
by her brightness, stars near the beautiful moon cover their own shining  
faces when she lights earth with her silver brilliance of love'". He fell  
quiet, regarding her. He noticed how she beamed radiantly up at him, the  
moonlight silvering her hair in a gloriously cascading halo. It was time.   
As she snuggled closer, he clasped her in the tenderest hug he could give,  
kissing her hair, eyelids, and throat, before they locked their lips in a  
passionate kiss. When he released her, her skin was flushed, and her eyes  
excitedly expectant. He caught on to her mood quickly.  
  
"I know a perfect way to end this night", he stated.   
  
He took her hands with his, and, with a sure touch, gently led her  
into the darkness. And the circle of life begins again.  
  
* * *  
  
She woke suddenly, gasping, sitting bolt upright in her bed. The  
moon, high in the night sky, gleamed harshly between the shutters, bathing  
the room and her features in an eerie light. She glanced at the bedside  
alarm, and noticed the time - two o'clock. Her long, tousled hair was damp  
from perspiration, and her night clothes were drenched in sweat. Forcibly  
controlling her breathing, she cast her mind about to figure the cause of  
her awakening. Again, like nausea, it hit her.  
  
She was out of bed in a flash, staggering to the bathroom, brushing on  
the light as she went by. Just as suddenly, the pain in her stomach  
stopped. She sank to her knees, and let out her breath in an explosive  
whoosh. As she knelt there, trembling, she realized the cause of her  
distress - IT had happened. The one event she had dreaded her whole life  
had happened, and there was no turning back from it now. She took a few  
minutes to calm herself down, and then went into the kitchen to make a  
soothing cup of tea.   
  
Thirty minutes later she stood at her post, dressed in the uniform of  
her office. Her demeanour was calm and collected, as she focused on the  
task at hand. She analyzed the data dispassionately, her brain calculating  
the different permutations. Not liking the results, she double- and  
triple-checked her work. It only served to confirm her fears. The  
singularity, that most distrusted result in the branches of mathematics and  
physics, was unavoidable.  
  
She was frightened, there was no avoiding that. For the first time in  
her life she felt the clutching dread of mortality. The path she had to  
follow was laid out for her, and the sacrifice she had long ago agreed to  
make was near. With that realization, a lifetime of restraint finally let  
loose, and she collapsed to the ground, sobbing. When dawn came, it found  
her huddled in a corner, hands clasped about her knees, while she slept a  
fitful sleep, her staff hugged tightly to her body...  
  
  
  
  
Lightning Crashes  
  
A story of Sailor Moon  
by  
John Hitchens  
  
  
DISCLAIMER:  
This story deals with mature situations, adult themes, and contains some  
disturbing scenes. Not recommended for young readers.  
  
Author's notes and credits at the end.  
  
Dedicated to my wife, Carlene, a mother three times over, who indulges my  
passion for Sailor Moon, and puts up with looking at the back of my head  
for evenings at a time.  
  
  
Chapter 1 - Regina Lunae  
  
  
  
"...the woman, and the rose: these are Good, absolute Goods: on that I  
stake my salvation."  
- E.R. Eddison  
  
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his  
friends."  
- St. John 15:13  
  
  
  
There are moments of seemingly commonplace insignificance that change  
the course of the world. When Sir Isaac Newton lunched under an apple tree,  
the action of gravity on the overripe fruit triggered a thought in his  
brain that lead to a revolution in science, and ultimately to the creation  
of the atomic bomb. Siddartha Gautama's enchanted dream underneath the  
banyan tree transformed a society. Such an event was happening now, in  
Tokyo.  
  
Tokyo, that teeming metropolis of some twenty million souls perched on  
the edge of the Pacific Ocean, staring unblinking across the empty expanse  
of ten thousand miles of water directly into the rising sun. A city of  
noise and bustle, the inhabitants squeezed claustrophobically close to each  
other, necessitating the exaggerated emphasis on politeness practised by  
its citizens. A city of commerce and recreation, busy days and bustling  
nights, American culture and ancient tradition, the thousand and one  
articles of daily life, and of life and death.   
  
Life and death were common themes in Juuban General Hospital. It was  
a grey, featureless hospital, like any other, plumped down into an  
overpopulated middle-class suburb of the giant city. Although it was only  
the end of June, the sweltering heat of the afternoon strained the air  
conditioners to their utmost, and frayed the tempers of an already  
overworked staff. In a hospital room, a young doctor pushed a damp,  
rebellious bluish-black bang from her forehead, and wiped away a trickle of  
sweat, accumulated from the heat generated by the room's intense lighting.  
  
"Go get Mizuno-sensei, please", she said, directing her comment to an  
orderly in the room. "The patient is ready for delivery."  
  
"At once, Mizuno-sensei", he replied, ducking through the curtained  
doorway of the operating room, his footsteps receding rapidly down the  
tiled hallway.  
  
She turned back to regard the blonde-haired girl panting on the bed.   
One part of her scientific mind clinically analyzed the medical situation  
unfolding. Although repeated exposures to deliveries had familiarized her  
with the birth process so as to make them routine, she knew that every  
birth was different, and full of surprises. It was one of the miracles of  
life, and made up part of the reason she had chosen to be a  
obstetrician/pediatrician.  
  
The other reason for her choice of careers briskly entered the room.  
She was a lady of medium height, petite and slender, with short black hair.   
She seemed in her early forties, still pretty, with the unmistakeable aura  
of authority that experts in their fields all seem to possess. "I think  
we're ready, mama", the young doctor said to the new arrival.  
  
"Thank you, Ami", responded the elder Mizuno. "Remember, I'm just  
here to watch this time. This is your responsibility today."  
  
"Hai, mama", she replied. She glanced at the tall, dark-haired man  
with the grave face and serious eyes. "Hang in there Mamoru-san. We're  
ready for the final push." She grinned to herself at the pun. "Okay  
Usagi-chan", she told the now groaning woman, "you can push now. The  
baby's coming." While she and her mother went almost mechanically about  
their duties, the other part of her mind drifted off into remembrance of  
the events leading to this path.  
  
Usagi had been her first friend when she had transferred to Juuban  
Junior High. The other students had all avoided her for her reputation as  
a socially challenged genius. Usagi's warm heart decided to disregard  
those judgements, and after an initial awkwardness, Usagi had taken to Ami  
almost immediately. It was soon after that they uncovered Ami's secret  
identity as Sailor Mercury, and Usagi had been revealed as Sailor Moon.   
Through the battles they faced together, Ami was brought into a circle of  
friends and warriors she otherwise would never have known. This lifeline  
offered to her had sealed, in Ami's mind at least, a friendship to Usagi  
that was more than she could ever repay, and made her oath of service to  
the Moon Princess a glad burden to bear.  
  
She glanced warmly at Usagi's husband, Mamoru. He was a hunk, she  
thought; there was no other way to describe him. Tall, with a model's  
slender good looks, there was a reserved aloofness in his posture that  
melted with a crinkle of his eye. At least five years older than Usagi and  
herself, he had first been introduced as the college student who Usagi kept  
running into, and who teased her with the name odango-atama. They had  
needed a lot of help fighting monsters in the early days, and received it  
quite often from a dashing hero called Tuxedo Kamen. He later turned out  
to be Mamoru, the reborn prince of Earth, and the immortal soul mate of the  
Moon Princess.  
  
Mamoru and Usagi had been married right after Usagi's graduation from  
high school. Although the first few years had been difficult, Mamoru had  
established himself as a promising young lawyer, and Usagi had managed to  
get an Arts Degree from a minor college. There had been no monster attacks  
to cause Usagi to transform into Sailor Moon, the pretty sailor-suited  
soldier of love and justice, nor any need for Mamoru to assume his Tuxedo  
Kamen identity. It was at her college Convocation that she had announced  
to her friends that she was pregnant. Ami remembered the night vividly...  
  
"Hi Rei!", greeted Ami cheerily as she plopped herself into an empty  
chair at the Tsukino family guest table. She had missed the graduation  
ceremony due to a long shift, but had arrived in time for the party  
afterwards. She was looking forward to a night out with friends, as  
opportunities to go out on the town seemed all too rare these days.   
  
"Hi Ami!", warmly rejoined Rei. "I'm glad you could make it."  
  
Ami nodded wearily in response, smiling at her friend, Hino Rei. Rei  
drew glances in any crowd. Of average height, and slim, she had the body of  
a supermodel and the imperiousness of a princess. Her thigh-length, jet  
black hair, red pouty lips, and molten glance attracted admirers in flocks,  
but her short-temper and obvious aloofness soon drove them off again,  
until, like moths burned by a licking flame, they circled to try their luck  
again. Tonight she was wearing a strapless burgundy-coloured dress with  
bared shoulders. It gathered at the waist, then fell straight to mid-calf,  
scant inches above her matching pumps. Ami herself was wearing an azure-  
coloured shift with a modest neckline, the knee-length skirt nicely  
contrasting her white-stockinged legs and blue high-heeled shoes.  
  
"How are things at the temple? And how is your Grandpa, and  
Yuuichirou?", asked Ami, slyly dropping in the last name. Yuuichirou was  
an acolyte that lived and worked at the temple owned by Rei's Grandpa. He  
and Rei had been fighting a love/hate relationship over the last few years.   
No one knew Rei's true feelings, and they were unlikely to find out. The  
Shinto priestess could be as mysterious and tightlipped as Mamoru  
sometimes, thought Ami. Although, since Rei was also the fire-wielding  
Sailor Mars, being tight-lipped was probably a good thing!  
  
At the mention of Yuuichirou's name, Rei glared at Ami. "Don't  
discuss that supercilious, stuck-up moron in my presence! He makes me so  
mad!" Visibly calming herself down, she continued in her normal voice.   
"I'm worried about Grandpa. I think his heart's not too good, but he won't  
say anything to me. He's just too stubborn!"   
  
Ami nodded non-commitally. Rei's grandpa had to be over eighty, and  
despite his strenuous daily exercise regime, age was beginning to take its  
toll. Ami privately did not expect him to live out the year, but of course  
could not mention her suspicions to anyone. She decided to change the  
subject.   
  
"Where is the royal couple?", she asked, noticing Usagi's and Mamoru's  
absence from the table.  
  
"Can't you hear?", laughed Rei. "They're up at the karaoke booth."  
  
Ami glanced in that direction. Sure enough, a bubbly Usagi and an  
embarrassed Mamoru were mangling a song in English. Ami thought she  
recognized it as "Top of the World" by The Carpenters, a popular group from  
the early Seventies. Actually, she decided, Mamoru has a nice voice, but  
it's hard to sing harmony when your partner keeps changing the key! Ami's  
scan had also located two other people she had been dying to see. Walking  
through the crowd, balancing a tray of exotic looking drinks, were two  
striking young ladies, a blonde and a brunette.  
  
The brunette stood out by dint of her great height, at least six  
inches taller than any other lady present. She wore her chestnut hair in a  
perky topknot and pony-tail, pulled through an emerald-beaded twist. A  
forest green dress with a daring crossed bodice draped her statuesque form,  
bringing out the highlights in her beautifully liquid green eyes. Her name  
was Kino Makoto, and an old school friend of Ami's. She also happened to  
be the puissant Sailor Jupiter, karate expert and caster of lightning  
bolts. Ami was always glad to have her on her side in combat.  
  
With her was Aino Minako, also known to Ami as the warrior of love and  
beauty, Sailor Venus. True to her exhibitionist nature, she was wearing a  
black cocktail dress from Halston that left little to the imagination.   
Minako looked like the All-American girl next door, with honey coloured  
hair flowing down below her waist, cornflower blue eyes, a slender waist  
and a voluptuous figure. She had recently graduated from UCLA in the United  
States, and had flown over for Usagi's graduation. Ami, Rei, Makoto and  
Minako made up the princess' bodyguard, but this was the first time in over  
nine months that they had all managed to get together.  
  
When they reached the table, Makoto put the drinks down, while Minako  
flew over to hug Ami, snagging her foot on a chair in the process and  
landing right in Ami's lap. "Oops, sorry!", she squealed. "So, how ya  
doin', you a doctor yet? Met any good looking boys? I can fix you up if  
you want, after all, I am the senshi of Love, ya know...", she prattled on.  
  
Ami sighed, thinking, not for the first time, that her resemblance to  
Usagi was not just physical. "I'm fine, Minako, how are you? Yes, I am a  
doctor now, and I don't have time for boys right now. How's your career  
going?" Minako had majored in dramatic arts, and her stunning looks and  
energetic nature had landed her some bit parts in a few Hollywood movies.  
Actually, the thought of Minako fixing up dates for people was laughable.   
For some reason, she never seemed to have the luck to attract the right  
sort of man for herself.  
  
"No boy friend? Ami, we have to get you out more", she stated with  
her typical calm assurance that everything could be made to work if you  
were just enthusiastic and straight-forward enough. The fact that her  
plans seldom unfolded the way she envisioned never seemed to dampen her  
ardour.  
  
"My career is going pretty well", she continued. "I don't know yet if  
I'm going to choose acting or the Pro Beach Volleyball tour". Minako had  
made the NCAA Division 1 All-American team in volleyball her last two  
years. While her five-foot-six frame was much shorter than the average  
player, her combat reflexes, enhanced strength, and tactical skills  
developed as the leader of the princess' guards more than compensated.   
"Nike has offered me fifty thousand dollars in endorsements, so it's a  
tough decision."  
  
"What does Artemis think you should do?", asked Ami, referring to  
Minako's magical talking cat. The white feline was very sarcastic most of  
the time, but loved Minako dearly. Ami surmised that he was probably off  
frisking with Usagi's magical cat Luna. Not that she could imagine the  
staid and respectable black cat 'frisking'. She would probably tell  
Artemis to grow up, while secretly wishing she could act just as silly.  
  
Minako frowned at the mention of Artemis' name. "He wants me to come  
back to Japan. He thinks I'm needed here. I don't know why. We haven't  
had a monster attack in almost five years. I think he just misses Luna!   
What do you think, Mako-chan?"  
  
"I think you should keep following your dream", answered Makoto,  
smiling. "I followed mine, and look where it's lead me."  
  
Makoto had not led an easy life, Ami mused. She had been orphaned at  
age fourteen when an untimely plane crash claimed her parents' lives.   
Shortly thereafter, she had been lead astray by a boy who had taken  
advantage of her still-confused state to rob her of her virginity, then  
spurned her, leaving her scarred for life. Her overeagerness for some  
kind of a serious relationship seemed to scared off the men. A  
tremendously skilled chef, she had opened a lunchtime noodle place in the  
heart of the Juuban business district. It was called Tampopo, and was  
quickly gaining a reputation as THE place to eat lunch.  
  
Rei interrupted the conversation. "Here they come!" Under her breath  
she muttered "and thankfully that song is over!"  
  
Ami laughed. Rei was still taking jabs at Usagi, even after all these  
years. As Usagi's best and closest friend, she was the only one with the  
latitude to heap abuse on the princess. Sometimes she did it too much,  
thought Ami, but she had tempered her comments over the years.  
  
Usagi hugged and kissed all the girls, while Mamoru stood quietly by.   
"Guess what news I have for you?" she squealed.  
  
"Duh, let me guess", drawled Rei. "You graduated?"  
  
"No. Well yes, but not that", retorted a flustered Usagi. "I'm  
pregnant!"  
  
Two seconds of stunned silence followed the announcement, followed by  
a babble of words and a second round of hugs. Then , the import of the  
words sank in. Of course, the girls responded in their own inimicable  
ways.  
  
"Kawaii...", breathed Minako. "Congratulations Usagi! She'll be so  
cute. I can see it now."  
  
"Hai!", shouted Makoto, punctuating her exclamation with a pumped  
fist. "Way to go!".  
  
"Baka!", Rei screamed. "What have you done! Chibi-Usa is not  
supposed to be born for nine hundred years!"  
  
"Nani?" Ami was confused. Setsuna had lectured them all about how the  
future was not set in stone, but everybody assumed that Usagi's daughter  
would not be born until the end of the next millennium. She looked at her  
friend questioningly. "How can this happen"?  
  
Usagi had smiled brightly. "Oh, I don't know, in the usual way I  
guess." She blushed and then giggled. Usagi had changed the most of all  
the senshi. While still a bit of an airhead, and totally infatuated with  
"her Mamo-chan", she had matured in a way no one had believed possible.   
Losing the awkwardness of her teenage years, she had grown graceful, and  
even more beautiful. Perhaps a bit too thin, she appeared as an almost  
ethereal creature, sent by the spirits from faerie land to grace the earth  
for a while.  
  
The other girls all groaned. Mamoru had stepped in. "Listen girls,  
it will all work out, trust me. I've been talking to Setsuna and she  
doesn't seem worried." At the mention of the mysterious Sailor Pluto's  
name, everybody had relaxed. As the Guardian of Time, she knew the past,  
present and future, and watched the timelines for any untoward disruptions.   
If she was not worried, they wouldn't be. Everything would work out.  
The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, good friends revisiting great  
times...  
  
An exceptionally loud groan from Usagi drew them both back out of  
there reverie. This had been a difficult birth for both Usagi and Ami.   
Usagi had been scared out of her wits by the impending birth of her child.   
When her water had broken, she had panicked, and then simply sat down and  
cried. Of course, this had brought out the worst in Luna, her magical  
black cat.   
  
"Usagi!", she scolded. "Grow up! You're about to become a mother,  
with all the responsibility that entails, and you simply sit there crying  
like a young girl! Haven't I taught you anything? I don't know why I ever  
bothered in the first place!", she continued, in a tone all too familiar to  
Usagi.  
  
This had started Usagi off. "Why are you always so mean - Phffbbbth",  
she complained, and stuck her tongue out. The stoic Mamoru had merely  
picked up the phone, and called Ami, the doctor on call. Ami told him to  
bring Usagi to the hospital once her contractions were ten minutes apart.  
  
"How will we know when the contractions start?", he had asked.  
  
"You will know", Amy had replied with a certainty that he did not  
share.  
  
An hour later, Mamoru was heading towards Juuban General with the  
speed that only his friend Haruka could match, Luna left firmly at home.   
The frustrated Luna had smugly been informed by Usagi that pets weren't  
allowed in the hospital, much to her chagrin. Mamoru had passed a  
motorcycle cop on a souped-up bike, but lost him with a deftly thrown rose  
into the bike's spikes. When it came to his Usako's health, Mamoru was  
fanatical. He chuckled when he thought of Haruka.  
  
Currently residing in Monaco, Ten'oh Haruka was the rising star on the  
Formula One circuit. Replacing Ukyo Katayama on the formerly inept Minardi  
team, with the new Honda engine she was able to wage a three-way war with  
Jacques Villeneuve and Michael Schumaker for the World Championship. She  
was considered by many to be the greatest talent since Aayrton Senna. The  
irony was that only her close friends knew her to be a girl. The rest of  
the world thought she was a man. She was tall and handsome, with short,  
sandy-blonde hair and a husky voice, who preferred to wear men's clothing,  
and enjoyed immensely the joke she was playing on the world. A few years  
older than the other senshi, she became Sailor Uranus in times of need,  
physically the strongest of the team.  
  
Kaioh Michiru was her soulmate. Inseparable, she teamed up with  
Haruka as Sailor Neptune, another powerful fighter. She was also a famous  
painter, and a concert violinist of renown. Since 'acquiring' her  
Stradivarius from an Italian Mafioso, her playing had risen to the point  
where the magic she drew forth from her instrument was only rivalled by the  
legendary Jascha Heifetz and Yehudi Menuhin. Accompanying Haruka to her  
races, she picked and chose her venues to correspond to her racing  
schedule. With the death of Princess Diana of Great Britain leaving a void  
in the tabloid market, she and Haruka had become the latest 'hot' couple.   
Only their senshi powers had enabled them to escape the crushing press of  
paparazzi at times.  
  
Once at the hospital, Usagi had started to hyperventilate. Mamoru had  
counted the breaths with her to calm her down.  
  
"Come on, Usako! Take a deep cleansing breath, now let it out slowly.   
Okay, now pant blow pant blow pant blow pant blow" he rapidly spoke,  
forcing her into a regular rhythm. "Now breathe in, good, now a long out,  
slowly, like that. Good." This had gone on for a good eight hours, with  
Usagi starting to dilate, then stopping. The poor girl was exhausted and in  
pain, and Ami suffered along with her. Ami looked down on her princess,  
with her hospital gown soaked in sweat, limp pigtails, and laboured  
breathing, and sighed. She wondered what the other were feeling right now.  
  
Minako could not be present at the birth due to a shoot she was doing  
in Vancouver. Which was just as well, thought Ami. She remembered vividly  
the nightmare of Minako acting as a nurse. Rei was not present at the  
birth either, having taken a much-needed vacation to a hot springs resort  
owned by a friend of the family. Her Grandpa had passed away two weeks  
ago, and she was having difficulties with Yuuichirou. Usagi had  
understood, and told her to come back whole. Makoto was here at the  
hospital, pacing the waiting room with quick, impatient steps, muttering  
imprecations at the hospital's policy that would not let her be at her  
princess' side when her support might be needed. She was a contrast to  
Hotaru, with whom she had come. The pale, black-haired girl with the  
violet eyes sat passively watching her, no trace of her Sailor Saturn,  
Angel of Death, Messiah of Silence, alter ego peeping through. And she,  
she was delivering the royal baby.  
  
After studying in Germany on an accelerated scholarship program, Ami  
had returned to work in her mother's clinic. At first she had been  
resented by the staff for her apparent preferred appointment. But Ami's  
gentle, quiet ways, kindness, and undoubted ability had won the respect and  
admiration of her co-workers. They fondly called her "chibi-sensei" when  
referring to her (at least when she wasn't around), and looked after her as  
best they could. When Usagi asked Ami to be her obstetrician, Ami could  
not refuse. She was now more tense than normal, as the birth was  
progressing strangely, and Ami's knowledge of the patient intruded on her  
detached professionalism. Now more complications were being added. Due to  
Usagi's drug allergies, they had not ben able to perform an epidural, and  
Usagi was giving birth naturally.  
  
"The baby is caught in the umbilical cord", she tersely remarked.  
  
"Easy, dear, you know what to do", said her mother, taking Usagi's  
hand and stroking her brow. "Okay Usagi-san, please try not to push, and  
we'll position the baby better. Than you'll be done in no time", she added  
as brightly as she could.  
  
"But it hurts so much!", cried Usagi. "And I need to push. Ooohh!!"  
  
"Just relax and try not to think about it", replied the elder Mizuno  
soothingly. "You're in good hands."  
  
After much effort, and no little discomfort to Usagi, Ami had managed  
to slide the umbilical cord to the side, and the baby was ready to come  
out. She sighed with relief. Everything was finally ready for the birth  
of the girl who would be the heir to Crystal Tokyo a thousand years from  
now. "I can see the head, Usagi-chan! Push again! And again. Okay, one  
more big one. Hurray!"  
  
Usagi sighed with relief as she felt the baby pop out. The air was  
filled with the wailing cry of a newborn baby. Mamoru was gripping Usagi's  
hand with crushing force that had not relented in the last ten minutes,  
tears streaming down his face.  
  
"It's a girl!" cried Ami joyously, wishing she could dance around in  
triumph. She realized that decorum forbid such a display, and instead,  
walked to the head of the bed and presented the newborn to her mother.  
  
"Hello little Usagi", she whispered, looking at her tiny infant,  
reddish-brown hair matted to her small skull. The baby opened her wide  
blue eyes, that would one day turn pink, and stared into her mother's face.  
Usagi broke down in tears. "You're so beautiful", she breathed. She held  
her to her breast, oblivious to the rest of the room. Mamoru stood quietly  
by, realizing that this was Usagi's moment.  
  
"Well done, Ami-sensei. Arigato.", he told her.  
  
"It was nothing.", replied Ami modestly. "Thank you for being there  
for her."  
  
Usagi had never realized anything so precious and beautiful could  
exist in the world. Even knowing the little terror she would grow up to be  
could not dampen her spirits. All she wanted to do was to hold her little  
Usa forever. Nothing would ever part her from her child. Reality  
eventually intruded upon her.  
  
"Usagi-chan", said Ami. "We have to clean and measure the baby now."  
  
"Ah, can't I hold her a little longer?", she wheedled.  
  
"No, Usagi.", replied Ami. "The baby will get tired and want feeding,  
and you need to rest too. Please let us have Chibi-Usa."  
  
While Ami moved off to weight the baby, and Mamoru moved over to get a  
photograph, Usagi relaxed back into her bed, alone for a few seconds.   
Strangely, irrationally, she felt lost without the baby to hold. The  
adrenaline of the birth was wearing off, and she suddenly felt cold and  
tired. A greenish glow was filling the room, and she thought she was  
hallucinating, until she glanced to her right and saw the cause of it.  
  
Sailor Pluto was standing there in all her awe-inspiring glory. Over  
six feet in height, her exotic beauty was set off by long, dark green hair,  
and a daring outfit of a short black fuku and sleeveless blouse, a more  
mature look than the rest of the senshi. Dwarfing even her height was her  
Time Staff, an impressive looking staff in the shape of a skeleton key,  
topped with a glowing red ruby, the Garnet Orb, with the power to stop time  
itself.  
  
Which is what she was doing right now, realized Usagi. The green glow  
flooded from the gem, and froze everyone in the room in their places. Only  
she and Pluto could move. Usagi suddenly got scared. Stopping time was  
forbidden. Only a coming catastrophe could necessitate such a step. Pluto  
spoke.  
  
"Your Highness", she bowed her head briefly, then looked straight into  
Usagi's eyes with the glance that no one could face. Usagi had to turn  
away. "We have come to the most important moment of history, and you must  
make a choice. There are grave disasters waiting in the time line. Unless  
they are averted, you will all be dead in three years. Mamoru will die,  
you will die, Crystal Tokyo will never exist, and your daughter Chibi-Usa  
will die, as will the entire planet." She paused then, and let the weight  
of the unnatural silence set in and give further import to her grim words.  
  
Usagi's mind blanked. All she could croak out was a gasping "Nani?  
How?"  
  
"That is too complicated to go into right now.", replied the Guardian  
of Time. "Time is running short." She permitted herself an ironic smile  
at the word play, then grew grimly serious again. "I must be brief." She  
leaned forward, took a deep breath, and spoke sombrely. "If you wish your  
friends and daughter to live, you must sacrifice your life for theirs.   
Only your death will change the timeline enough to ensure their survival.   
Can you die for them? Will you die for them!"  
  
Overwhelmed, Usagi reeled in shock. What was Pluto saying? Her  
friends, her Mamo-chan, her new baby would die if she lived! How could  
this be? She did not want to believe her. All her dreams, her happiness,  
shattered. Never to grow into the beautiful queen of Crystal Tokyo, to  
reign for a thousand years with her lover and friends by her side! She  
turned frantically to Pluto. She thought of the baby she had just had, her  
little daughter, and how she looked forward to nursing her and raising her,  
sharing the joys of first steps and first words.  
  
"I don't believe you. I don't want to believe you!", she screamed.   
"You say that there's no Crystal Tokyo if I live. How can there be if I  
die?!" She started sobbing with fear and grief, Pluto's message too much,  
too fast for her in her exhausted shape, after the ordeal of her labour.  
  
Pluto's face flickered with a rapid series of emotional changes, each  
shape seemingly alien on her normally impassive visage. Her face settled  
on that enigmatic smile that Leonardo da Vinci captured for the ages so  
many years ago. "A princess of the blood has just been born, Your  
Highness", she answered evasively.  
  
Usagi pondered Pluto's words. She seemed to see their true meaning.  
If not her, at least her daughter would rule Crystal Tokyo in the future,  
with her husband there to advise the child. It was a bittersweet victory,  
she thought. But could she trust Pluto? Should she trust Pluto? What was  
she up to? After all, she had been to the future, and seen her future  
self, hadn't she? Wasn't that real?  
  
Pluto seemed to sense her doubts, and leaned forward until she was  
mere inches from Usagi's face. "You must trust me", she said urgently.   
"The time window is exceedingly small. I have had to wait for this moment.   
Think of your daughter, Chibi-Usa! Will you die for HER? Will you die so  
that she might live?"  
  
Usagi turned to meet Pluto's intense gaze, her eyes boring into  
fathomless depths, into Pluto's immortal soul. This time, she held the  
gaze locked, as an equal, and saw...  
  
She saw love, and understanding, and bitterness, and pain, and  
compassion, and torment. She saw rage and sorrow. She caught brief  
glimpses of ancient pasts and possible futures, twisting this way and that,  
medusan snakes writhing on the gorgon's head. She saw all the things  
harboured within Pluto, that no mortal could ever experience and still stay  
sane. And she saw truth. And it was beautiful, and sad, and fearful and  
uncertain.  
  
Usagi was crying now, tears streaming down her face in an  
uncontrollable flood, but her mouth was locked in the rictus of a smile,  
and there was a serenity and nobility about her that took Pluto's breath  
away.  
  
"Yes", she croaked hoarsely to Pluto, then again, stronger - "Yes. I  
will die for her. Ohh, Mamo-chan!"  
  
Pluto bowed one last time in reverence to the woman who would lose all  
to gain all for her friends, and whispered "DEAD SCREAM." Usagi's body  
jerked, then her eyes rolled lifelessly towards the heavens. Pluto turned  
on her heel and vanished into thin air, the green mist dispelling behind  
her and awakening the grotesquely frozen shapes hovering around the baby.  
  
Ami turned backed to Usagi to deliver the placenta. And screamed.  
  
  
  
Chapter 2 - Interregnum  
  
  
"Our two souls therefore, which are one,  
Though I must go, endure not yet  
A breach, but an expansion,  
Like gold to aery thinness beat."  
  
- John Donne, "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning"  
  
  
"Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity... but  
the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of  
the White Silence."  
  
- Jack London, "The White Silence"  
  
  
  
The scorching sun beating down on his head had an almost malevolent  
air about it, thought Mamoru. It was sucking the very spirit out of the  
gathering of onlookers. The oppressive heat wave was still very much in  
evidence, and the freshly gathered flowers placed around the coffin seemed  
already to have started to wilt underneath the sun's fierce glare. The  
heavy formal clothes he was wearing only served to accentuate the  
excessively warm temperature. The sweat dripping from the faces of his  
fellow mourners gave the appearance as if their very features were weeping  
tears of grief.  
  
Mamoru may have been grieving, but he did not weep. The rigid  
barriers he had built over his previous twenty-five years trammelled his  
outward display of feelings, revealing only a cold, blank mask. Inside, he  
felt empty - cold, barren, void. He had not slept in the two days since  
Usagi's death, and only his iron resolve was carrying him through. The  
only thing he had left now of her love was their baby.  
  
He looked over to where Usagi's parents, Kenji and Ikuko, were holding  
little Usagi. They had stepped in immediately after the birth, to take  
care of the little girl. Mamoru did not know how he could have coped  
without their support. They had pushed aside their loss, a loss just as  
great as his, to help another fellow sufferer. If he had any doubts before  
of where Usagi got her all-giving heart, they were dispelled now.  
  
The baby appeared to be the only person unmoved here. There was a  
huge crowd of people at the funeral, all those whose lives Usagi had  
touched with her particular magic. Unashamed tears ran down from most of  
their faces. The most affected, though, were the inner senshi. Their faces  
had the look of stunned despair and disbelief.  
  
Ami seemed the worst hit. Her tiny frame was crumpled into Minako's  
body, her head buried in Minako's chest. She was still sobbing and  
shaking, something she had been doing non-stop throughout the entire  
service. Minako stared ahead in abject misery, while Makoto stood stock  
still, face stricken, her rigid posture and clenched fists revealing a  
tension just waiting to explode. Hotaru looked lost and frightened, her  
fragile frame even paler in her black mourning dress and veil. Haruka and  
Michiru stood a bit apart, hand-in-hand, while flashbulbs popped in the  
background. The newspapers would have a field day with this, thought  
Mamoru, wincing as he imagined the headlines. "FAMOUS DRIVER MOURNS OLD  
FLAME'S DEATH", or some other such nonsense. There was no sign of Setsuna.   
In fact, he had not seen Setsuna since the discussion with Usagi and  
himself on that cold December day, so long ago now.  
  
They had discussed the future, with Setsuna unwilling to divulge any  
useful information, he recollected bitterly. "Yes, the pregnancy was a  
good thing." "No, Crystal Tokyo was not threatened." "Yes, things would  
work out." "No, I can't tell you any specifics." Where was she now? he  
thought. Nowhere to be seen, while his life crumbled into ruins. He  
noticed Rei get up to make her address, and steeled himself to listen.  
  
Rei was in turmoil. Her best friend was dead. She had failed to  
protect the princess she had sworn her life to guard. While Usagi lay  
dying, she had been soaking herself luxuriously in a hot tub! She had  
failed her in her hour of need. Never again would she allow herself to be  
weak, to relax her guard for the sake of personal selfishness. She had  
actually felt the tremor in her heart when her princess died. Scrambling  
hastily back to Tokyo, she had found a shambles. Pulling herself together,  
she had taken over all arrangements for the funeral, and placed upon  
herself the burden of eulogizing Usagi.  
  
All was quiet as she walked to the head of the grave. She had  
agonized over what to say, and after many aborted attempts, as the deadline  
ticked down for her speech to be written, she had decided to dip into the  
literature she had been forced to read so many years ago at her Catholic  
school. John Donne, William Shakespeare, Dylan Thomas - all had written  
eloquently on the subject of death, but they did not sufficiently stir her.   
She needed something with the passion to spark others to continue on with  
their new life. A chance remark from Ami had led her to the passage she  
needed. Now she would try to encapsulate their entire situation with  
words, however inadequate.  
  
"We come here today to mourn the death of Chiba Usagi", she started,  
rather stiffly. "Beloved wife of Chiba Mamoru, mother of baby Usagi,  
daughter of Tsukino Kenji and Ikuko, and friend to us all. It is always a  
tragedy when someone dies so young, their promise unfulfilled, their life  
finished almost before it starts. Perhaps not a tragedy for Usagi. She is  
free now of all earthly cares, gone to wherever you believe that good  
people go at death. But it is a tragedy for those left behind. Who here  
has not been touched by her love?"  
  
"I remember the first time I realized I loved her." She stopped,  
choked with tears. Everyone was still silent. After a few seconds, she  
continued. "The moment is too private for me to share , but without her  
friendship I would have withered alone in my temple, segregated from the  
world by my self-erected barriers. Instead, I have experienced many  
beautiful friendships in the world without. There are many here with the  
same experience as myself. Usagi had the unique ability to reach out to  
even the loneliest person, and welcome them into her heart. Never  
believing in evil, she trusted everyone, and everyone gained."  
  
"The world will be a sadder place without her. Never more will I see  
her turn the corner with that infectious bounce and warm smile. Her  
daughter will grow up without a mother's love and comfort, and her husband  
will explore the inner depths of his heart for the vestiges of her. Her  
parents will have only memories, and her friends will have emptiness."  
  
"There are some of us who had even higher hopes for her, our secret  
hope, and dream of beauty, now forever shattered. But life must go on, as  
it has for millennia upon millennia, and we must endure and survive. She  
would have wanted it no other way."  
  
"I would like to leave you with a few words, that express more  
eloquently than I can, the value in continuing on with our lives, and our  
own hopes and dreams. If the words do not make perfect sense, please blame  
it on my poor translation from English to Japanese. The poet laureate of  
Great Britain, Lord Tennyson, wrote these words over a hundred years ago,  
but they remain timeless:  
  
"Death closes all; but something ere the end,  
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,  
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods..."  
  
As she recited, Rei noticed how everyone had become even more still,  
their eyes focused on her, while she intoned the ending passage of  
'Ulysses'.  
  
"... Come, my friends,  
'T is not too late to seek a newer world..."  
  
Not too late for us, I hope, she thought. Perhaps there was life  
without Usagi, her sweet odongo-atama. Perhaps the senshi could still  
function effectively if needed. She got to the passage that she had meant  
for the rest of the senshi.  
  
  
"Though much is taken, much abides; and though  
We are not now that strength which in old days  
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are:  
One equal temper of heroic hearts,  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."  
  
"Life can go, must go on, and will go on!", she continued. "We say  
goodbye now to our friend, and say 'We Love You, Rabbit of the Moon'. We  
will always remember and cherish you."  
  
She stood with her head bowed for a few seconds, then walked over to  
Mamoru and watched as the earth was shovelled onto the grave. Most of the  
mourners dispersed, their long faces still revealing their inner pain. The  
rest of the senshi approached.  
  
Mamoru turned to Rei, and said simply, "Thank you Rei." Then,  
noticing Ami, he gently hugged her, and turned her tear-stained face to  
his. "Ami, it's not your fault".  
  
"It is!!", the normally reserved girl shrieked at him. "If I had been  
a better doctor, or studied harder, or noticed some signs earlier, Usagi  
would still be alive! I killed her!!!"  
  
"No!", he barked. "Ami, childbirth is still a dangerous time. There  
is so much that can go wrong. It is NOT YOUR FAULT. You have saved our  
lives with your skills many times, and there is not a doctor I would prefer  
to have. Would still prefer to have", he remonstrated. "If anyone could  
have saved her, I know it would have been you."  
  
At that moment, Haruka coughed. "Hu-Hmm. Ami, get hold of yourself.   
No one blames you but yourself. Mamoru-san", she continued, "we swore an  
oath to the princess. Michiru and I will reaffirm that commitment to  
Chibi-Usa, the new princess of the moon."  
  
She knelt down on one knee, soiling her tuxedo in the earth left over  
from the grave. Beside her, Michiru did the same, her dress swirling  
gracefully as she sank to the earth. "I pledge to protect the Moon  
Princess to the best of my ability, with my life as forfeit if I fail.",  
they intoned together. "Upon her coming into her inheritance, I will obey  
all her commands as my sovereign monarch. I so swear by the sign of my  
planet".  
  
Mamoru looked distinctly uncomfortable as he said "Thank you, Uranus  
and Neptune. Your service does you credit".  
  
Haruka rose, and replied "We have to leave now. I have a race to  
practise for. We'll keep in touch". With a nod to the rest of the senshi,  
she strode rapidly to her car, with Michiru in tow, followed by a gaggle of  
photographers. As she buckled up her seat belt, she asked her elegant  
companion, "Michiru, what does the mirror show?"  
  
"Still the Silence", she gravely replied.  
  
"Only the two of us, then, together, at the end?" she queried.  
  
"Yes", replied Michiru, "the two of us, until the end".   
  
They clasped hands, and looking into each other's eyes, lingered on a  
kiss. There was a sad passion, and a lingering desperation, and a renewed  
determination in that kiss. Haruka eventually broke the kiss, and,  
slipping the car into gear, drove quietly away from the cemetery, the two  
of them lost in their thoughts.  
  
* * *  
  
Setsuna had stayed away from the funeral. She couldn't face the  
questions and accusations that would come from Mamoru and the others. They  
would not, would never understand. Besides, her presence would have seemed   
hypocritical to herself, after the role she had played. She had let Haruka  
and Michiru believe that she was looking into the time perturbations caused  
by Usagi's death, and trusted them to pass the word. It was time for her  
to take a break, an extended vacation, before the final, irrevocable act.   
Let them hate her, or fear her. The stakes were too high for petty  
feelings. At least, that is what she had tried, and was still trying to  
believe, every day for the last nine months.  
  
She had one more role to play, one more decision to make, one more  
blot to put on her soul. She stood on the porch in irresolute indecision,  
then, with a drawing of breath, knocked on the door. The cheerful greeting  
coming from the other side only made things worse. She trembled, wondering  
whether she could go through with it, then crossed the threshold.  
  
"Hello Hotaru", she smiled wanly, trying to put an easy tone into her  
voice. "I hope you don't mind me dropping over?"  
  
"Of course not, Setsuna", replied Hotaru. "Come in and have some tea.   
I've made green tea, your favourite. It's a new blend I thought you'd  
like..." Her friendly voice faded in volume as the kitchen wall was  
interposed. Setsuna followed after stepping into some slippers, an act she  
found distressingly uncomfortable, considering the breach of hospitality  
she was about to commit.  
  
Five minutes later, they were sitting around the dining room table in  
a cautious silence. Obviously, Usagi's death was still weighing heavily on  
Hotaru's mind. Setsuna cast about for an opening gambit.  
  
"Where are the kids?" she asked. Hotaru was doing a lot of  
babysitting as part of her Early Childhood Education curriculum.  
  
"They're down in the basement, playing for now. They should be okay  
for another ten minutes or so." She seemed surprised when Setsuna suddenly  
choked on her tea. "Are you all right?"  
  
No, she thought in her mind, nothing will ever be all right again.   
The suddenness of the vision she had just received brought an unquieting  
image to her mind, a fierce elation, and an even heavier conscience. If  
you choose not to act, are you acting? Aloud, she said "Oh yes, I'm fine.   
I'm just worried about the state of the world. With Usagi dead, there are  
no other Messiah's to stop you filling your destiny."  
  
Hotaru was aghast. "Setsuna!", she reprimanded angrily. "You know I  
would never unleash the Silence!"  
  
Setsuna gazed impassively back, her eyes more Pluto than human. "Do  
I? If the world was being destroyed, would you stand idly back, or try to  
prevent it?"  
  
"Prevent it, of course", she retorted.  
  
"And if the only way to prevent it would be to unleash your powers and  
destroy the world anyway?"  
  
"I - I - I don't know", stammered Hotaru.  
  
"Exactly my point", replied Setsuna, as she got up from the table.   
The choice was clear to her now. "I have to leave." A worried Hotaru  
scrambled to follow her friend to the door, watching her slip her shoes  
back on. She was about to say something when she heard a scream from the  
basement.  
  
"I have to check that out", she apologetically stated, as Setsuna was  
opening the door.  
  
"I know", responded Setsuna, stepping onto the porch. "I know", she  
repeated more softly to herself after the door closed behind her. The  
image was still in her mind, the toy left on the top of the basement steps.  
Was she responsible if she did not mention it? Before she could change her  
mind, she sprinted for her car. Inside, Hotaru opened the basement door...  
  
  
* * *  
  
Haruka sat in her sleek blue-and-white Minardi, her ears unconsciously  
registering the whine that a V-8 engine produced at 17,000 rpm's.   
Physically, she was sitting in a twenty million dollar car, revving her  
Yamaha engine to keep it from stalling while waiting for the start of the  
race. Mentally, she was far away, reliving Usagi's funeral service.   
Emotionally, she was confused.  
  
Her eyes mechanically registered the BAR-Reynard of three-time Formula  
One World Champion Jacques Villeneuve, parked on the grid in front of her,  
in the pole position. To her right, and slightly forward, was current  
points leader and twice World Champion Michael Schumacher's menacing red  
Ferrari. By all rights, this should have been a triumphant day for her.   
Third in the point standings, third on the grid, returning triumphantly to  
her home track where she had driven Formula 3000 cars so successfully.   
Thirteen points behind Schumacher, and three behind Villeneuve, she needed  
a win to retain a realistic chance of capturing the title as they entered  
the second half of the season, two weeks from now in South Africa. Now,  
she didn't care.  
  
What good was it to win?, she thought rhetorically. The world was  
going to hell in a hand basket and there was seemingly nothing she could do  
to stop it. The adulation would be fleeting; the Silence would be eternal.  
After so many victories, she would lose the race that counted. She pushed  
her brooding thoughts to the back of her mind as the signal lights started  
to come on.  
  
Five red lights. They would light, one at a time, and when they all  
went out the race would start. She counted them off in her mind. One.   
Two. Three. Four. Five. Off. Floor it. Popping her hand clutch,  
Haruka switched to first gear while tromping the accelerator. As the  
wheels started to overspin, she backed off the gas slightly, shifting up  
into second and stepping on the pedal hard again, the tires catching the  
pavement and translating her torque into forward momentum. Now into third  
gear, the car was working perfectly. Three seconds after the start she was  
at ninety miles per hour and climbing.  
  
Haruka loved starts. Starts were chaos; burning tires, obscuring  
smoke, and twenty-six drivers madly swerving, trying to overtake each other  
before the long race separated them. It was the only time during a race  
that her heart was truly in her mouth, when even her great skill could not  
fully control all the variables on the track.   
  
In front of her, Villeneuve had performed one of his trademark poor  
starts, and she cursed as she had to back off the gas a bit to avoid  
hitting him. Schumacher took advantage of this lapse to draw even with  
Villeneuve, and the two cars in front of her entered the first curve side  
by side. Haruka shifted down to third, while breaking down to 120 mph to  
take the 180-degree right-hander. She tucked in behind Villeneuve, using  
the more conventional line through the corner, while Schumacher pulled  
ahead into the lead. The rest of the pack, headed by Mika Hakkinen's black  
and silver McLaren, thundered through the turn behind her.  
  
Now they were into the 'S' curve. Up to fifth gear through a sweeping  
left-hander, then breaking down to second to double back to the right,  
then, working the gears hard, pushing the car all the way to fifth through  
a tighter left-hander, before an almost panicky drop to second for the  
right-hand switchback. This was a place where a brave driver could pick up  
time, where the contenders were separated from the pretenders. As she  
pulled a 3-G turn, the car shuddered, the tires struggling for grip as the  
steering demanded a change of vector that should have defied the laws of  
physics. She knew that one slight nudge from a trailing car, or even  
something as simple as a bump on the track, would tip the balance the car  
was trying so desperately to maintain, and send her off the course into the  
gravel track and the metal retaining wall.  
  
It wasn't until she let out a short breath that Haruka realized she  
had been holding her breath through the turn. Now she was locked onto  
Villeneuve's gearbox, scant inches away, as they both roared up the hill on  
Dunlop's curve. This was when she could feel the engine's might, 760  
horsepower pulling her up the steeply inclined left-hander. In her element  
in top gear, sixth, at 190 mph, she then had to brake down to second for  
Degner's curve, a blind righthander at the top of the hill, before  
streaking away under the bridge towards the first good passing place on the  
Suzuka circuit, the first gear Hairpin Curve.  
  
As Villeneuve aligned his car on the right side of the track to take  
the sharp lefthander, she darted out from behind his car, diving to the  
inside, daring him to brake later than her, or to give up the corner. It  
was a multi-million dollar game of chicken, and just when she thought she  
was going to lose, Villeneuve finally braked. Haruka gleefully darted  
passed the Reynard, realizing too late that she had left it just a touch  
too late herself. Formula One cars may be able to go from 200 mph to zero  
in under four seconds, but there were limits! Her brakes locked, smoke  
burst from her tires, and she overshot the apex of the curve. Foot still  
on the brakes, she floored the accelerator while spinning the car in a  
hundred-and-eighty degree arc, miraculously performing a power spin and  
maintaining position on the track. Her adversary took the opportunity to  
slip past, and by the time Haruka got under way, the blue Reynard was  
streaking away, while Hakkinen was knocking on her gear box.  
  
She cursed for a second time, then drew herself under control and  
shifted up the gears to 6th on the wide sweeping power turn towards the  
Spoon Curve. She approached the entrance on the far right, then braked  
down to fourth and swung hard left. Spoon curves had a tighter exit than  
entrance, and she had to concentrate on dropping to 3rd, while keeping her  
speed up for the exit. Her right-side wheels roared over the red-and-white  
rumble strip at the curve's exit, causing her view to tilt slightly as if  
in a fighter plane about to do a roll. Straightening up the vehicle, she  
accelerated up the long hill in pursuit of her quarry.   
  
At the crest of the hill, Haruka followed the exhilarating ninety  
degree curve to the left, at 190 miles per hour, the fastest curve on the  
circuit, then streaked past the pit entrance towards the last part of the  
track, the Casio Chicane. Half a second in front of her, Villeneuve was  
braking for the chicane, while Schumacher's red Ferrari was busy  
negotiating it in front of them both. Down to first, she counted the gears  
- fifth, fourth, third, second, off the brake, sweep right. Now a touch of  
the brake pedal down to first to avoid the sand trap, a sweep left and back  
up through the gears, around the gentle right-hander and onto the start-  
finish straight.  
  
She could see the crowd rising to their feet as she swept passed the  
finish line at 180 mph. To most people, at that speed the stands would  
have been a massive blur. To Haruka's trained eye, though, details were  
easily picked out. The sign on the pit board placing her third, four-  
tenths of a second behind Villeneuve, and Michiru in the front row looking  
gorgeously elegant in a yellow sundress. She gave her a quick thumbs up,  
then concentrated on catching the car ahead of her.  
  
Through the next part of the circuit, Haruka used every ounce of skill  
she had to once again tuck in behind Villeneuve's British-American Racing  
machine, just before the hairpin where she had her last lap misadventure.   
She took it easy in the curve, then stuck on his tail through the sweeping  
right hander leading to the spoon curve, using the draft to pass him on the  
outside. Side by side, they roared into the curve. Then, disaster struck.  
  
Haruka's Minardi slid too far to the right, tangling with Villeneuve's  
Reynard. Wheels interlocking, both cars slid off the track at high speed,  
Haruka's car being flung violently into the air by the torque of the  
oppositely-rotating tires. Haruka last remembered the pitching sand  
filling her vision, and the slamming up and down of the seat on her spine,  
before the wall loomed up to meet her, and then there was blackness.  
  
* * *  
  
Alone in his apartment, Mamoru glanced down at his sleeping six-month-  
old daughter. She was lying in her crib, her reddish-brown hair not yet  
matching the pink trimming of the basinet. Mamoru could discern his dead  
wife's features in her sleeping form. Sometimes those features haunted  
him, other times they were his defense against the darkness. He glanced at  
the clock for the third time in the last ten minutes, then heard the chime  
of the doorbell.  
  
"I'll get it!", he yelled. From the other room came the sound of the  
television. Shingo, Usagi's younger brother, was over babysitting tonight.  
He was also emptying Mamoru's beer fridge while watching a sumo match on  
the tube. Hotaru's unending coma had seemed to affect him worse than even  
the other senshi. They all wondered if there had been something between  
the two of them, or if it was just aftershock from his sister's death.   
They all dropped in on her from time to time, Rei more than most, but as  
time passed, those visits became less and less frequent. She might never  
wake up again.  
  
Mamoru let Rei in. He and Rei had formed an understanding in the half  
year since Usagi's death. Alone, with only an increasingly neglected  
temple to occupy her time, Rei had sought to expiate her feelings of guilt  
by transferring her allegiance to Chibi-Usa, the new princess. Yuuichirou  
had finally left the temple, convinced that nothing would ever happen  
between himself and Rei. In her own way, Rei mourned that loss, but coming  
on the heels of the death of her Grandpa and Usagi, her mind numbed the  
pain until it became just another one of life's tribulations.  
  
Mamoru worked at his law firm during the day, while his mother-in-law  
looked after little Usagi. On evenings where he had to work late, Rei  
would often come over and babysit. They had formed a tacit companionship,  
a reminder of happier days. Though the spectre of Usagi lay between them,  
through her they shared a bond, and found a little peace. Tonight, he and  
Rei were going out to a concert, and Grandpa Kenji and Shingo, Usagi's  
younger brother, were looking after Chibi-Usa.  
  
Rei looked stunning, as usual, thought Mamoru. She was wearing a  
black evening dress with black pumps and lovely gold star earrings,  
underneath a stylish black dress coat. A trace of harsh coldness could be  
discerned at the corners of the eyes and set of the cheekbones, all  
remnants of girlishness now gone. Mamoru never had any problem with formal  
wear. He merely turned into Tuxedo Kamen, and doffed his hat, cloak and  
mask.  
  
"Shall we go?", he asked, looking quizzically at her. She gave him a  
measured stare, then perceptibly nodded. Mamoru locked the door behind  
them, and offering his arm, led her down to the waiting limousine.  
  
"Nice of Michiru to send the limo", commented Mamoru, as the white  
stretch limo purred through the city streets en route to the concert hall.  
He leaned back in his seat, stretching his long legs, and glanced sideways  
at his erstwhile silent companion. Rei was sitting there, staring straight  
ahead. Mamoru tried another gambit. Twisting around in his seat, he gazed  
levelly at her, with a hint of compassion in his eyes, and asked, "Rei,  
what's wrong?"  
  
"Everything's wrong!", she exploded. Struggling to keep her dejection  
and temper under control, she continued, "Minako's on the other side of the  
world, Ami's always too busy to see anyone, Makoto's struggling to keep the  
restaurant afloat, so I never see her, and who knows where Setsuna or  
Hotaru are!" Eyes staring blankly into space, she missed the tightening  
around Mamoru's mouth at the mention of Setsuna's name. She continued,  
"And look what's happened to Haruka!".  
  
"Rei", soothingly interjected Mamoru, and understanding her real  
problem, obliquely continued, "we all miss her. That can't be helped."   
Their was no need to mention who the 'her' referred to; between these two,  
there was only one woman who would ever claim that spot.  
  
Rei interrupted. "The world misses her! Don't you see Mamoru?   
Look", she cried, picking up a copy of the complimentary paper supplied by  
the limousine company. She started reading the headlines. "IRAQ DEVELOPS  
ATOMIC BOMB. CHINESE BEGIN NUCLEAR TESTING IN SPACE. AMERICAN FLEET  
REINFORCES TAIWAN. MILITARISTIC GERMANS THREATEN RUSSIA. MASSACRES IN  
AFRICA - 400,000 DEAD. The world is a colder place without her!"  
  
Mamoru had no reply to that. They sat in contemplative silence for a  
while, then Mamoru asked, "Where are Makoto and Ami?".  
  
Rei made a face. "Ami says she will be over after her shift, and  
Makoto is having some problems at the restaurant."  
  
Mamoru cocked an eyebrow. "Can't they make changes for such a special  
night?", he asked.  
  
"That's what I asked", Rei responded. "Ami said I was making a fuss  
over nothing, that she'd be there, just maybe a few minutes late. Makoto I  
can't figure out. She's always been the closest to the Outer Senshi. I  
know that she's worried about dwindling attendance at her restaurant, and  
she has a few staff problems, but they'll keep for one day, won't they?"  
  
"Maybe I'll have to drop by for lunch and talk to her", answered  
Mamoru decisively. "I'll do it tomorrow. We all have to stick together."  
  
The limousine pulled up in front of the concert hall, and they got  
out, Rei resting gently on Mamoru's arm, past the lineup for the box  
office. Not a few envious stares were cast in their direction. Rei read  
the billboard at the entrance: "An Evening with Michiru and Friends".   
There weren't many people who could be billed with just their first name.   
She sometimes wished she could be as fortunate as Michiru, but then she  
always remembered Haruka.  
  
Their seats were in the first box right by the stage. After they  
checked their coats, Rei scanned the evening's program. First on the list  
was Brahms' piano composition Rhapsody in B Minor, then came a performance  
of Mozart's 41st Symphony in C Major, often referred to as the 'Jupiter'  
symphony, with the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra. After a brief intermission,  
there would be a series of violin and piano duets described as a 'Kreisler  
collection'. Rei smiled at the choice of symphony; she hoped Makoto would  
be here to hear it.  
  
"Who was Kreisler?", whispered Rei to Mamoru.  
  
"Fritz Kreisler was a famous arranger for the violin", responded  
Mamoru, getting a chance to show off some of his knowledge. It was usually  
Rei that knew about music. "He is probably most important for being the  
first to popularize using vibrato as a technique. Before, it used to be  
considered showy and distracting from the music."  
  
"Aahh", said Rei. The tone started to chime for the beginning of the  
performance, and Ami and Makoto rushed breathlessly in to take their seats  
beside Rei. Ami was wearing a simple blue dress and no makeup, while  
Makoto looked to have been equally in a hurry with her mismatched blouse  
and skirt. The house lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the stage. Out  
stepped Michiru. She looked, as always, the epitome of feminine grace.   
Her pale blue dress caught the sea-green highlights in her hair, and she  
walked with poise and maturity to the front of the stage.  
  
"Good evening", she said into the microphone. The crowd quieted down.   
"Tonight is a special night for me, and I would like to thank you all for  
coming out to share it. Not only is it my first performance since last  
summer, but I have a few friends joining me tonight. Playing with the  
Tokyo Symphony Orchestra tonight as concert meister is world-renowned  
recording artist, and my teacher, Nishizaki Takako." She waited for the  
applause to die down. "And performing for the first time ever at a concert  
level, our guest soloist for the Brahms Rhapsody. I introduce to you, on  
the pianoforte, my special friend, Ten'ou Haruka."  
  
There was a general hubbub in the crowd as a tuxedo-clad Haruka was  
wheeled beside a grand piano to the right-centre of the stage. Michiru  
walked over and helped Haruka slide out of the wheelchair and onto the  
piano bench. Haruka gave the audience her charismatic boyish grin, and  
half the female audience started screaming and shrieking. Michiru laughed,  
and left the stage, and Haruka began to play.  
  
Rei smiled. Haruka's crash at Suzuka had left her paralyzed from the  
waist down. Her promising racing career was over. The doctors told her  
she would never walk again. Two weeks later, she regained some feeling in  
her toes. After two months, she had some muscle control in her feet and  
ankles, although not much strength. As soon as she could push the pedals,  
Haruka decided to brush up on her long-abandoned piano skills, and make a  
living for herself another way. She threw herself into studying with the  
same single-minded determination she brought to all her endeavours, and  
with Michiru's unflagging encouragement prepared herself for her new  
career.  
  
They had all wondered how the injury would affect her transformation  
to Sailor Uranus. One fall day, they all gathered at the Outer Senshi's  
house for a trial. They wheeled Haruka into the garden, and she produced  
her henshin stick.  
  
"URANUS PLANET POWER, MAKE UP!", she cried, holding her pen aloft in  
her clenched right fist. The sparkling light enveloped her, and she cried  
out in pain. The transformation finished, she shakily stood up, out of the  
wheel chair. Michiru caught her before she fell, and draped one of  
Haruka's arms around her shoulder. Makoto moved to Haruka's other side of  
her and did the same.  
  
"It's as if the magic is giving me communication to my legs, but also  
all the pain of the accident", she tried explaining. "I don't think I can  
manage a WORLD SHAKING, or move well enough to swing a sword." She took a  
few tentative steps, grimacing in pain, then hobbled back over to the  
wheelchair and sat down with a sense of relief. Michiru looked about to  
cry.  
  
"Maybe you just need time", suggested Makoto in an effort to cheer up  
Michiru.   
  
"Yes", agreed Ami. "After such a prolonged enforced sedentary  
situation, your muscles would have atrophied to the point of inutility".  
  
"If you're saying that after sitting so long in disuse, my muscles are  
weak, I think I know that, Ami-chan", impudently smirked Haruka. "I'm in  
pain, I think I need a doctor's hug". That brought a bit of much needed  
laughter to the group at Ami's expense, and a smack from Michiru. At least  
Haruka was in good spirits.  
  
Unfortunately, as the weeks passed, Haruka's abilities as Sailor  
Uranus remained at the same weak level. The only person unaffected by this  
gloomy news was Haruka herself. She had remarked that she never liked  
wearing skirts anyway. In fact, even though it would have been easier to  
dress herself every day in a skirt, she stubbornly insisted on struggling  
into a pair of trousers each morning. She also never gave up hope of a  
full recovery.  
  
Listening to Haruka play, Rei was impressed. She knew the piece,  
being a piano enthusiast herself. Haruka was playing it with vivacity and  
comprehension, the grandiose chords and racing passages a perfect  
complement to her personality. Perhaps she was a bit sloppy with her  
technique, but that would improve, given time. Michiru had confided to Rei  
that for accompaniment, it was more important to have someone with whom you  
were in perfect sync, then someone with a formidable technique. The second  
half of the show promised to be magical.  
  
The piano rolled softly to its close. There were a few seconds of  
hushed silence, then the audience rose to its feet, cheering wildly.   
Michiru stepped out of the wings with a yellow rose, and handed it to  
Haruka. She helped her bow to the audience, then eased her into her  
wheelchair and pushed her off stage as she waved to the crowd. The  
applause was deafening. The crowd quietened down again as the orchestra  
began to tune up for the Jupiter symphony.  
  
"She was pretty good, huh!", enthused Makoto to no one in particular.   
"Now I can't wait to hear MY symphony!"  
  
  
"Yes", agreed Mamoru. "It was excellent. I'm happy for her." He  
meant it. Even if he could not be happy for himself, he could still be  
happy for others. His Usa had taught him that.  
  
Ami looked a bit ill at ease. "I'll be back in a few minutes", she  
remarked, and hurried for the exit. Mamoru took no especial notice of  
Ami's exit, figuring it was probably just a visit to the ladies room. A  
few minutes later, though, when she returned, he was not as sure. He was  
positive he could detect the aroma of whiskey clinging to her. Before he  
could say anything, the lights dimmed and the orchestra began.  
  
Mozart's complex symphony carried them away for the next thirty-nine  
minutes. Mamoru closed his eyes, leaned back, and lost himself in the  
gorgeous music, letting himself relax for the first time in a long time.   
Rei watched appreciatively, while Ami gave polite attention to the music,  
and Makoto sat there a bit bewildered. It was obviously not her type of  
music.  
  
The music crashed to its triumphant conclusion, and they broke for  
intermission. Ami scurried away again, while Makoto asked why it was  
called the Jupiter symphony. Mamoru let Rei answer.  
  
"It was called the Jupiter symphony because of its grandeur and  
brilliance, and pride of place as the greatest symphony of the eighteenth  
symphony. I like the 40th symphony best, however, while Mamoru likes the  
25th better. It's still pretty good, though. I think it is appreciated  
more by musicians and composers, because it is so technically brilliant."  
  
"Oh, o.k.", said Makoto. "Let's go souvenir shopping." She grabbed  
Rei's arm and dragged her away. Left to his own devices, Mamoru decided to  
discreetly follow Ami.   
  
Mamoru was great at shadowing. All those years as Tuxedo Kamen had  
honed his stealth, and his great height allowed him to easily spot people  
in crowds. He noticed Ami in line at the champagne bar, and decided to  
join her.  
  
"I didn't know you drank, Ami?", questioned Mamoru.  
  
"Oh, I don't, actually, but it is such a special night that I thought  
I could indulge in a little celebratory champagne. For Haruka's sake", she  
added, looking innocently at Mamoru.  
  
"Uh huh, and how about the alcohol on you that I smelled earlier?", he  
persisted.  
  
"Really, Mamoru", protested Ami, "it's none of your business, but what  
you could smell was probably the cleaning alcohol from surgery".  
  
  
Mamoru knew that was nonsense. He could tell the difference between  
whiskey and rubbing alcohol, and Ami did not do surgery. But he had pushed  
her as far as courtesy allowed.  
  
When Ami got to the counter, to Mamoru's surprise, she ordered two  
glasses of champagne. She gave the second glass to an astonished Mamoru.  
By this time, the tone started to chime again for the end of intermission.  
Ami looked at Mamoru, and giggled "Bottoms up!". She drained the rest of  
her champagne in one gulp, while Mamoru took large sips, trying to finish  
his in time, too. Ami yelled, "Catch you later, slowpoke!", and ran off  
for her seat, leaving a non-plussed Mamoru to follow when he finished his  
drink.  
  
The girls were all in their seats when Mamoru got back to the box.   
Rei and Makoto were showing off tee-shirts they had bought. There was a  
picture of Michiru playing the violin on the front, and the back said  
"Tokyo Symphony Orchestra". There was applause as Haruka was installed at  
the piano, and Michiru came out with her violin. They began to play.  
  
From the first quick violin notes of Haydn's Hungarian Rondo, the  
audience was enthralled. Michiru's violin danced and sang, with Haruka in  
such perfect step that the two instruments sometimes sounded like one.   
After the fast tempo of Haydn, they switched to the slow ballad from  
Bizet's L'Arlesienne. The romantic, bittersweet melody soared effortlessly  
from her 1709 Stradivarius, the rich timbre of the notes bringing chills to  
the audience. A succession of Rimsky-Korsakov numbers followed, leading to  
the last two numbers, the climax of the show.  
  
The penultimate piece was Handel's misnamed Largo from his opera  
'Serse'. It was evident from the opening chords of Haruka's piano that she  
had been saving herself for this piece. She imbued the normally majestic  
opening with a romanticism that would have been the envy of any pianist.   
When Michiru's violin entered after the introduction, many members of the  
audience were in tears. Mamoru noticed that she had switched to her 1703  
Strad for this piece, its soft sweet tones making a poignant contrast to  
the rich complexity of the previous numbers. All the longings, all the  
regrets that harboured her soul, seemed to come forth in her playing. The  
song ended, the enraptured audience was still in a state of deep profundity  
until Haruka's piano and Michiru's violin signalled the finale of the  
night.  
  
It was more Mozart, his Rondo from the Haffner Serenade. It was a  
lively, dancing celebration of life, a show stopper. They played it with  
dash and delight, carrying the audience with them. When it finally  
finished, the applause came crashing down from the rafters in waves.   
Haruka gave her cocky grin, while Michiru bowed, that secretive smile on  
her face. From somewhere, she produced a yellow rose and handed it to  
Haruka. Of all in the audience, probably only Mamoru knew the full  
significance of the gift. It was a moment that should have been shared in  
private, but was put on display for the world to see.  
  
Mamoru and the girls made their way backstage during the prolonged  
cheering. Eventually, Haruka and Michiru arrived from the stage, Haruka  
being pushed in her wheelchair by Michiru. The girls were effusive in  
their praise. There was lots of excited chatter. Mamoru felt a bit left  
out, until Michiru turned to him, and asked him how he was. Wordlessly, he  
reached into his inside breast pocket and extracted two long-stemmed white  
roses. They exchanged glances, then took the flowers. They knew that  
there was only one person he would ever give a red rose to.  
  
Mamoru finally spoke. "I'm doing okay, thanks. Everyone's support  
helps a lot. You two were great tonight! How are you feeling, Haruka?",  
he asked the driver-turned-pianist.  
  
"It was a strain tonight on the back muscles, but otherwise things are  
going well", she answered. "We think it might be possible for me to walk  
on crutches by the summer."  
  
"Well, thanks for everything, and keep in touch", he finished, as they  
headed out the door to their waiting limo.   
  
Ami and Makoto were dropped off first. When they were alone, Rei  
ventured to Mamoru, "I received a latter from Minako today".  
  
"How's she doing?", queried Mamoru, interested.  
  
"It's hard to say with her, but reading between the lines, I don't  
think that well. She chose acting over volleyball, and is now having a  
hard time getting parts. I guess the talent is pretty glutted down in  
Hollywood. She mentioned that she was doing some photo shoots to support  
herself while she waits for some parts. Oh, and Artemis sends his love. I  
get a bad feeling about it, but can't pin it down."  
  
"Well," responded Mamoru, "Minako's a big girl. I think she and  
Artemis can take care of themselves. Well, here's the temple. Have a good  
night."  
  
Mamoru watched Rei's retreating back until she was safely in the  
temple. Now for home, and sleep. He had a long day ahead tomorrow.   
Still, he thought, it had been nice to get out with everybody. Everyone  
seemed to be adjusting to life again. He could only pray it would  
continue.  
  
* * *  
  
On the other side of the globe, a girl was arguing with her cat.   
While talking to your cat might be construed as normal by most people,  
hearing the cat talk back was definitely not! Of course, as the girl  
talking to her cat was Minako, a.k.a. Sailor Venus, it was quite normal for  
her cat to talk. He was, after all, magical. The cat might as well have  
given up, because winning an argument with Minako was next to impossible.   
Right now, though, he was giving it his best shot.  
  
"I can't allow you to do this, Minako", he stated. "I'm your  
guardian, and this is wrong."  
  
"Hah, wrong Artemis!", she crowed. "You WERE my guardian. I'm twenty-  
two years old now, and a legal adult with a mind of my own."  
  
"Then why don't you use it!", he snapped. "You may be twenty-two, but  
I'm STILL much older than you, and I have more knowledge of the world than  
you do. What do you think Usagi would..."  
  
"Can it, Artemis!" She cut short his expostulations. "Don't start  
bringing up Usagi with ME! I knew her better than you, and I don't want  
you dragging her name into conversations just for your benefit! Now  
listen, and listen good! Let's go over the facts."  
  
"Fact One - I'm running out of money, and need some to pay the rent by  
the end of the month or I'm out on the street. Fact Two - acting positions  
are hard to come by, with four hundred actresses auditioning for every part  
that comes up. I've been turned down eighteen times in the past five  
months, so I'm not likely to get a job in the next week. Fact Three - I've  
been offered twenty-five thousand dollars plus perks just to pose for a few  
pictures. I'm a natural model, so it will be a piece of cake. If you put  
the facts together, the conclusion is I go for the job."  
  
"You're not just posing for a few pictures, Minako. You're posing for  
a few pictures with your clothes off", said Artemis, stressing the last  
four words.  
  
"Oh Artemis, don't be such a prude!", she scolded. "Pretty well every  
actress in Hollywood has posed for Playboy, but not too many of them were  
Playmate of the Month! It will be another ticket to stardom. If I make  
Playmate of the Year, the sky's my oyster!" Artemis winced at the  
malapropism. She continued, "Besides, I'm the Senshi of Love and Beauty,  
right? So this is natural. Who's more beautiful than me?"  
  
She winked at Artemis over the last few words. Artemis knew when he  
was beaten. He went and sulked in a corner, while Minako hummed around the  
kitchen getting dinner ready. She opened a can of tuna and set it down  
beside the counter.  
  
"Here, kitty", she teased. "Come and get it!"  
  
Artemis could never stay angry at Minako for too long. He was  
secretly in love with her, and would follow her to the ends of the earth.   
He managed to mumble out "What will Luna think of me?"  
  
"Luna won't think anything, because Luna won't know!", rejoined  
Minako. "Neither of us will tell her, so that's that." Artemis spent the  
rest of the evening in sullen silence.  
  
Six weeks later, Minako brought home a glossy-covered magazine. It  
was the April edition of Playboy magazine. She showed it to Artemis. On  
the cover was a picture of her kneeling on a sandy beach. She was dressed  
in kneepads and a strategically placed volleyball. The banner read  
"Playmate of the Month - Aino Minako".  
  
"Ta da!", she announced. "Whaddaya think ? I'm famous!" Artemis  
could only shake his head, sadly. He had not known how he would really  
feel about the pictures. Now, he knew. It was like a stake being driven  
through his heart.  
  
"Minako", he replied slowly, "I think I need a few days vacation to  
think about things. You'll be all right, won't you?"  
  
"Silly cat!", she cried, bending down and picking him up to cuddle  
him. "Of course I'll be all right. You'll see that this will be the best  
career move I've ever done!" She held him for a few minutes, before he  
wriggled out of her arms, and slipped through the window. To herself she  
whispered, "Oh Artemis, please forgive me". She stared at the open window  
for a very long time.  
  
* * *  
  
Ami was getting smashed. There were other ways of putting it, she  
thought, but that was the essence of it. She was getting smashed. It had  
been Makoto's idea of getting together to remember Usagi's birthday. The  
girls hardly saw each other anymore, and she thought it would be a good  
reason for socializing. What Mako-chan failed to consider, though, were  
the persons involved.   
  
Trying to get Rei to loosen up was impossible, and she, herself, least  
of all, wanted to remember the circumstances of Usagi's death. Drinking  
usually helped assuage the pain. Mamoru had turned down the invitation,  
like he usually did. Now Rei was sitting at the table in the bar, staring  
straight into the drink left almost untouched over the last two hours,  
while Makoto was busy flirting with a guy on the dance floor. Ami saw  
Makoto's cigarettes lying on the table, and decided to light one.  
  
"Ami", asked Rei, "since when do you smoke?"  
  
"I don't", she replied. "I just decided to try it." She hacked a few  
times on the first puff, and the cigarette dropped on the floor.   
"Whoops!", she said, giggling.  
  
"Ami, you're drunk", stated Rei, flatly. She gave Ami a rather  
disgusted look. Before the conversation could continue, Makoto walked over  
to the table, with a tall, rugged-looking man in tow.  
  
"Hi guys", she said, picking up her purse, cigarettes and lighter.   
While she dropped the latter articles into her handbag, she continued,  
"Tanaka and I are gonna split". She gave them a knowing wink. "See ya  
later!"  
  
"Hhmph!" snorted Rei, watching their retreating backs. "Looks like  
this party's over. Come on Ami, let's get you home." She guided a  
decidedly tipsy Ami to her car, and helped her in the passenger side. She  
turned the ignition, and as she was backing up, mentioned, "That Makoto -  
still boy crazy after all these years. One of these days she's going to  
take the wrong one home. And she was half looped to begin with. Oh, and  
Ami, try not to throw up in my car." Rei switched on the radio in time to  
hear the tail end of a news flash.  
  
"... it is not known yet the extent of the Iraqi counter-attack.   
Again, I repeat, the Israeli armed forces have launched a pre-emptive  
strike against Iraq's nuclear weapons build-up. So far, the United States  
of America and the European nations are staying neutral in the conflict.   
Retaliatory bombs have been reported landing in Jerusalem. We will keep  
you posted as the news happens..."  
  
Rei flipped the radio off, sobered by the news. In the quiet  
afterwards, she heard Ami mutter, "Things fall apart; the center cannot  
hold".  
  
"What's that?", queried Rei.  
  
"William Butler Yeats", replied Ami, rather drunkenly. "He wrote a  
poem about the millennium: 'anarchy is loosed upon the world, The  
blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere the ceremony of innocence is  
drowned'".  
  
"Geez Ami, you sound like a book even when you're hammered", remarked  
Rei. She helped Ami out of the car and up the stairs to her apartment.  
  
"It's real, Rei. 'The best lack all conviction, the worst are full of  
passionate intensity'. It's the end of the world. There's no Sailor Moon  
to save us this time."  
  
"Not yet it isn't. Now sleep it off, Ami. I'll see you later." She  
drove home, wondering if Ami was somehow right  
  
  
  
Chapter 3 - Bellatrix Tempi  
  
  
"If anyone tries to take the masks off the actors when they're playing  
a scene on the stage and show their true natural faces to the  
audience, he'll certainly ruin the whole play..."  
  
"Actors come on wearing their different masks and all play their parts  
until the producer orders them off the stage, and he can often tell  
the same man to appear in a different costume, so that now he plays  
a king in purple and now a humble slave in rags"  
  
- Erasmus, "The Praise of Folly"  
  
  
"The bright sun was extinguish'd...  
...and the icy earth  
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air..."  
"The habitations of all things which dwell,  
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed..."  
"...The world was void,  
The populous and the powerful--was a lump,  
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless--  
A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay.  
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,  
And nothing stirred within their silent depths...  
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,  
The moon their mistress had expir'd..."  
  
- George, Lord Byron, "Darkness"   
  
  
  
Minako was having a ball. For three months she had been feted and  
toasted, invited to countless parties, and had lived the high life in Hugh  
Hefner's mansion. She was never at a loss for dates, but drew the line at  
becoming a sexual playtoy. She had been approached many times about sexual  
liaisons, but had never been pressured into any. The only problem had been  
the schedule. Three months of festivities and late nights every evening  
had started to make her tired and irritable. That had changed recently,  
though. Minako had been at another party, when another playmate had  
approached her...  
  
"Mina!", a soft, friendly voice cried. Minako turned around to see  
who was calling. There, coming toward her through the hanging ferns, was  
Josephine, Miss June. She was a tall, vivacious brunette, with amply  
endowed features and an expressive smile. She and Minako had become almost  
inseparable, two kindred spirits, both of them being exuberant, kind and  
friendly people.   
  
  
"Hi Josie", she said, returning both the greeting and the smile.   
"What's happening? You seem quite energetic tonight. I just feel really  
tired."  
  
Josie dug into her purse, and unwrapped a piece of paper. "Here,  
like, try this", she suggested, shoving the contents under Minako's nose.  
  
Minako eyed the small heap of white powder dubiously. "What's this?",  
she asked. "I've never taken drugs."  
  
"Oh, it's just a pick-me-up, a little cocaine, you know? Everybody in  
Hollywood does it. It makes you feel like, more energetic. It's not  
physically addictive like heroin or crack, you know? Like I just take some  
now and again when I'm feeling run down. You look it, right now, and  
that's not how us love goddesses are supposed to look, you know?"   
  
"What do you do with it?" asked a still not convinced Minako.  
  
"Just, like, sniff it, you know? Here", she cried, almost shoving it  
up Minako's left nostril.  
  
Minako involuntarily breathed it all in, and immediately sneezed. She  
recovered after a few minutes, wiping the tears from her eyes and blowing  
her nose. "You're right", she said. "I feel great! Let's go get'em!"   
She linked arms with Josephine and headed back into the milling crowd.  
  
That had been three weeks ago. Minako had been snorting a little  
cocaine every night, and it had made a world of difference. Sure, it had  
cost her a little in the pocketbook, but it was worth it, She was a star!  
  
One of the security guards came up to her. "Mr. Jones wants to see  
you in his office", he announced gruffly, tapping her on the shoulder.   
"I'll escort you myself."  
  
This puzzled Minako. Mr. Jones was the manager of the estate,  
handling all the business affairs. He was rarely seen, and nobody knew  
much about him. The guard led her down through a series of lushly carpeted  
corridors, finally pausing at an impressive-looking oaken door. He rapped  
twice.  
  
"Come in", she heard. The guard opened the door, ushered her inside,  
and closed it again behind her. She was alone in the room with the  
mysterious Mr. Jones.  
  
He was a thin man, middle-aged, with dark hair and a crumpled face.   
He sat in an opulent chair, behind a large desk. He spoke.  
  
"Miss Aino. I will get to the point. It is time for you to leave  
these premises. We have paid you good money, and put you up at our expense  
for three whole months. We have introduced you to many important contacts  
in the film business. But we are not a charity. It is time for some new  
blood, some fresh faces. Tom outside will escort you to your room, where  
you can pack. He will then drop you off at your old apartment. Good day."   
  
Minako was stunned. She stood there, her brain not registering the  
words. The door opened behind her, and the guard came in to fetch her.   
She followed along numbly. She knew that her stay was temporary, she just  
had not been prepared so soon. At least Artemis would be glad to see her,  
she thought. At that thought, she smiled.  
  
* * *  
  
The nightmares came regularly, if she let them. During the day, it  
was not so bad, as she had her work to occupy her mind. But at night...  
  
At night, Ami had time. Time to think. And think she did. Thinking  
had always been Ami's main occupation. It had allowed her to achieve all  
the successes in her life. Her accelerated doctorate, her tactical  
analyses of the senshi's enemies - everything had been achieved with her  
superb brain. So now she thought.  
  
She thought about a blonde-haired woman who had trusted her with her  
life. A woman who was supposed to be the saviour of the world. Would have  
been, if she hadn't killed her. At night, when she closed her eyes,  
Usagi's blank eyes stared accusingly back at her. You failed, they  
whispered. You failed.  
  
The one thing that Ami had always dreaded was failure. With success  
came expectation, and with expectation came pressure, the pressure to  
perform. So she performed. And always wondered how she would cope if she  
ever failed. So she never did fail. Except in the fight against Queen  
Beryl. And in the fight with Galaxia. But she was not a fighter, so they  
could be excused. Others had failed with her. But in the delivery room,  
in her chosen field, she had come up short. And now the world would die.  
  
She could see it starting already. The nuclear destruction of Israel  
and Iraq had caused, among other things, a cool summer as the nuclear ashes  
from the destruction of cities and oil refineries spread across the skies  
of the northern hemisphere. The world, already aghast at the catastrophe  
in the Middle East, waited to see if even this 'small' nuclear exchange  
would create a nuclear winter. The relief among the nations was palpable  
when it was narrowly averted, although the falling temperatures wrecked the  
Asian rice crop, forcing China and Japan to introduce grains into their  
diets as a staple food. The wheat and corn had to be imported from Canada  
and the United States, and resentment towards America grew as prices soared  
through the roof, and people went hungry. This minor test of the nuclear  
winter theory confirmed most of the leading scientists' fears, promising  
dire straits if a nuclear conflict were to ever conflagrate the globe.  
  
Rei had come over shortly after, popping in on her as she did  
periodically to all the remaining senshi, a roving ghost who could never  
find again rest. She had come to ask Ami to explain the whole nuclear  
winter theory to her. Ami was impatient to get rid of her, as she wanted  
nothing more than to get at the bottle of whiskey waiting by her bedside.   
But Rei was Rei, and it was no more than her due, so Ami acquiesced.   
Through her career, she had grown adept at explaining new concepts to  
people in a simplified matter. She started with the basics.  
  
"How is the world heated?", she asked, as she set a glass of water by  
Rei's side, and sank down into a chair.  
  
Rei answered, "By sunlight."  
  
"Right. So you take the amount of sunlight hitting the earth,  
subtract a small fraction for the amount deflected back into space by the  
atmosphere, and what is left over heats the earth. What do you think the  
average temperature is on earth, taking into account day and night, summer  
and winter, equator and the poles?"  
  
"I don't know, ten degrees?", guessed Rei.  
  
"Close. Thirteen degrees Celsius. Now, if you actually calculate  
what it should be, you get minus twelve degrees Celsius, a difference of a  
staggering twenty-five degrees. Where does the extra heat come from?"  
  
"Does it come from something called the greenhouse affect?", asked  
Rei.  
  
"Exactly", said Ami. "The heat is radiated back into space on an  
infrared wavelength. The water vapour and other gases in the atmosphere  
allow the sunlight through, but trap much of the radiation, keeping in the  
heat, and raising the temperature of the earth's surface, making it  
livable. We saw this summer a drop in temperature due to a tampering with  
the greenhouse effect that averaged one degree across the planet. That was  
enough to cause three nights of frost and kill most of the world's rice  
crop, which is why we're now eating all this bread." She took a sip of  
water to moisten her throat, then continued her lecture.  
  
"As you can see, any change in the delicate balance we've achieved can  
have severe effects on the planet. Now, the theory is, during a nuclear  
war, you get vast quantities of soot, smoke and dust ejected high into the  
atmosphere. We've seen this to some extent with the Middle East Holy War.   
These particles, moving laterally, spread quickly across the globe,  
blocking the sunlight coming from space. This lowers the earth's  
temperature. The earth then radiates less heat to be trapped, causing a  
second cooling. This is called an inverse green house effect. A full-  
scale nuclear war could cause temperature drops by as much as twenty-five  
degrees. Five degrees would be enough to kill off almost all food staple  
crops in the world. Ten to fifteen degrees would be enough to bring in a  
new Ice Age. Twenty-five degrees would probably destroy all life on the  
earth's surface."  
  
"Of course", she continued wryly, "there would also be the side effect  
of massive nuclear fallout, deadly rays from the destroyed ozone layer  
killing micro-organisms and stopping photo-synthesis, and the diseases  
spread from the rotting corpses of a billion unburied bodies. Not that  
we'd be around to see it, anyway", she added, "Tokyo would probably get  
destroyed in the first round of attacks."  
  
Rei stood up, reeling, her psychically enhanced senses suddenly  
assaulted by an intense vision of one billion screaming voices. "Oh my  
God". She felt like she would be sick.  
  
"Rei, I didn't mean to upset you", a concerned Ami interjected.   
  
"It's okay Ami, it's not your fault. I just have a bad feeling that  
we need Usagi desperately, and now she's not here. I'll be all right, but  
I think I'll go now."  
  
Ami sat there, stunned, Rei's unintentional accusation a slam into her  
guts. All the guilt came back, intensified. She got up, and shakily  
closed the door after Rei. She would need more than her customary half  
bottle tonight.  
  
* * *  
  
Another New Year had come and gone. Makoto sat morosely at her  
kitchen counter, drinking her cup of morning coffee, and staring moodily  
through the windows of her restaurant. There would not be much lunchtime  
traffic today, not that there ever really was lately. The increased price  
of wheat had pushed the prices of her noodle dishes beyond the reach of the  
ordinary lunchtime diner, and rice was an expensive scarcity. Lately, she  
had cut back on her prices, hoping to stimulate some interest at the  
expense of margin, but the net result was leaving her poorer than before.   
She was lucky to have Ukyo.  
  
Ukyo was a successful Tokyo businessman. Larger and more aggressive  
than most Japanese, he had done particularly well in the North American  
market. Ten years older than her, he was assured, worldly, and physically  
attractive. He had chanced across her one day when he had stopped in for  
lunch. They had started getting together when he was in town, and the  
relationship soon became physically intimate. They were both karate buffs,  
but she was no match for him, at least in her untransformed state.  
  
They would get together in the evenings, when they could both snatch  
time away from work. She remembered their first workout. She had changed  
into her gi, and walked into his private gymnasium. He had bowed to her,  
ritually, then they had fought.  
  
Makoto was used to being the toughest. She had never backed down from  
anybody, and used a combination of speed, skill and strength to batter down  
her opponents' defenses. Ukyo was a special challenge. Big, almost beefy,  
but well-toned, he was a lot stronger than her. His karate training far  
exceeded her battle-won knowledge, enhanced by a only a few years formal  
training. She seemed to have a little edge in speed, but it was not much.  
  
She immediately attacked with ferocity, all fists and forearms, trying  
to batter down his defenses. He deflected them effortlessly, warily  
circling away, then launched his own counter-attack. Taken aback by his  
skill, she blocked or dodged most of them, but took a bruising shot to the  
ribs, and a ringing kick to her head. His blows were heavy, and hurt. She  
used more caution now, sparring, and trying to slip in a punch past his  
defenses. He blocked them all.  
  
Every now and then he would unleash his own offensive, and while she  
blocked most of them, a few would get through. Soon, her body hurt all  
over from the punches she'd taken. Her pride would not let her stop, and  
he kept on hurting her, wearing her down. At last, her hands dropped  
wearily, and he knocked her flat on her back with another kick to her head.   
As she lay there, stunned, he pinned her to the mat, and untied her belt.   
  
She watched unresistingly as he removed her clothes, and began to  
caress her bare flesh. She felt a thrill as this handsome, virile man laid  
claim to her defeated body, and during the lovemaking experienced the first  
orgasm she had ever achieved in her life. Since then, they would spar  
whenever they had the chance, with always the same results.  
  
Could it be normal, she thought? Do normal people get a sexual thrill  
out of being beaten up? She had thought of discussing it with Ami, but  
there were some areas with Ami upon which you just couldn't touch. She  
thought of Rei, and snorted. She sometimes doubted if Rei had a libido in  
her body, if there was room for anybody inside that heart of hers except  
for herself. She thought Minako would understand, or at least pretend to.   
She missed her. All those times when the two of them would try to get  
dates, and fail.  
  
Her reverie was broken by heavy footfalls. Ukyo entered the room, in  
an ugly mood. He had drunk too much sake the night before, and was nursing  
a little hangover.   
  
He walked over to where she sat, placed his hands around her waist,  
and said, "I need a little morning loving."  
  
"Uh, not now Ukyo, I'm kind of sore from last night still", replied  
Makoto, uneasily.  
  
"Well that's too bad", he sneered. "I'm the one that's been footing  
the bill for most of this joint's expenses, and I think I'm entitled to a  
little gratitude."  
  
"Oh, I know, honey", she tried soothing him. "It's just not the right  
time. How about tonight? I have to get ready for the lunch crowd and..."   
She got no further as he backhanded her out of the chair and against the  
wall. He quickly pounced on her, ripping off her clothing as she struggled  
futilely against his strength. A few karate smashes into her biceps numbed  
her limbs, and she helplessly had to endure his assault. As her body  
responded in arousal, despite her best efforts, she moaned in shame. The  
rest was a haze of pain and pleasure. When he left her, she cleaned  
herself up, got dressed, and started setting out the kettles for the soup.   
It was going to be another long year.  
  
* * *  
  
Six months after her expulsion from the Playboy mansion, Minako was  
broke again. She had started to get a few offers for roles, most of them  
sleazy or exploitive. She had accepted a few of the less questionable, but  
still cherished the hope of a real breakthrough. Her major stumbling block  
was her cocaine habit. It was getting expensive.   
  
Minako was one of those people with an addictive personality.   
Everything she did, she did wholeheartedly and with gusto. Her drug habit  
was no exception. When the money was coming in, she was snorting cocaine  
daily. Now the money was short, she was finding it tougher and tougher to  
maintain her supply. She had not had a fix in a week, and she was getting  
frantic. She had decided to visit her supplier and see what she could  
arrange.  
  
She breezed through the door of the talent agency, and approached the  
receptionist. Putting on her best smile, she asked to see Mr. Valucci.   
The receptionist pressed a button. "Miss Aino to see you, sir." She  
listened for a moment through her headset, then said to Minako, "You can go  
right in". Minako smiled in gratitude and almost rushed past the front  
desk. Passing through a connecting door, she hurried down the corridor to  
the second door on the left and opened it.  
  
Gino Valucci looked up from his desk. "Ah, Minako my child, glad to  
see you!", he beamed, rising from his chair and walking around his desk to  
take one of her hands in his two own. He noticed the telltale signs of a  
frantic drug user, and smiled to himself.  
  
Gino Valucci was not an unhandsome man. He wore the fake smile, curly  
moussed hair, and the perfect tan of a top-rate con artist or used-car  
salesman. He was snake oil and charm. He ran a free talent agency for  
former Playboy models. His real income came from other sources. Now he  
intended to exploit another individual.  
  
"Mr. Valucci", began Minako uncertainly. "I need some more cocaine."  
  
"Of course you do", he smirked. "Do you have the money?"  
  
"No I don't," replied Minako, blurting out "but I should be getting  
some soon." She looked plaintively up into his face.  
  
  
"Minako, Minako", he shook his head reprovingly. "I run a business."  
  
"I know you do, but I'm good for it", she pleaded earnestly, giving  
her most winsome smile.  
  
"It's bad business to make an exception", he told her. He turned his  
back and seemed to think about it for a minute. Then, as if coming to a  
decision, he strode to a drawer, yanked it open, and produced a handful of  
packets containing a white powder. He fanned them before her eyes.  
  
"I've got a week's worth of drugs here. You can have it, on one  
condition. I want you to do something for me."  
  
"Yes!", she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up in fervour at the sight of  
the drugs. "Anything!"  
  
"I've seen you act on the screen. You're beautiful. I want you."  
  
"I don't understand", replied Minako, thinking that she understood  
only too well.  
  
"Your body. I want to sleep with you. Just once, and all these  
pretty looking drugs are yours. Or should I put them back?" he suggested,  
turning back towards the drawer.  
  
"No, wait!", she cried. She had the trapped feeling that she would be  
giving in as soon as her brain produced a rationalization. It would be  
just one more secret to keep from Artemis.  
  
* * *  
  
It was a gorgeous summer day in suburban Tokyo. It was one of those  
days where the gentle humming of a distant lawnmower mixed with the sweet  
smell of newly-cut grass, the air was sunny and still, and children could  
be faintly heard, laughing, at a nearby playground. Michiru was out in the  
garden, watering the plants, while Haruka was inside practising the piano.  
  
Two summers had passed since Usagi's death. The shadow of winter had  
lifted, and the world was in peace again after the horror of the Middle  
East War. Haruka doubted the peace would last, but fighting battles was  
beyond her now. She battled daily just to be able to do the little things,  
like piano playing. Playing the piano caused her intense physical pain,  
but she dealt with it. She had always been tough. Her concert recitals  
were going nicely, and though she had not progressed much further  
physically, she felt like a full member of the team again.  
  
She was looking forward to today. Mamoru and Rei were bringing over  
little Usagi. She was a very assertive child, strong on her legs,  
beginning to talk, and with a conviction that she could get whatever she  
wanted. She was also extremely cute. She could wrap her Daddy around her  
little finger, and Michiru and Haruka weren't much tougher opposition.   
'Ruka was what she called Haruka, and she could always make her smile. If  
Rei wasn't around so much, to curb her wiles, she would have been  
thoroughly and utterly spoiled.  
  
Her musings were arrested in midthought. Although she did not know  
it, her body had suddenly stiffened. Her breathing started to come in  
loud, laboured groans, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Next, her  
body started to shake uncontrollably. Foam started to spew from between  
tightly compressed lips. Oblivious to the world, she started shrieking  
through her closed mouth, her body jackknifing, and banging her head on the  
piano. Over and over she thrashed, gashes appearing in her head, while her  
head repeatedly struck the keys. Her cries cut off, and her face started  
to turn blue as oxygen failed to reach her brain, cut off by her tongue  
stuck in her throat. The discordant piano notes played a ghastly  
accompaniment to the macabre dance. Which is how they found her.  
  
Rei had rushed in, alarmed by the noises emanating from the house,  
clearly audible when Mamoru had shut the car off. She recoiled in horror,  
then swiftly ran to the piano and grabbed Haruka. "Mamoru, keep Chibi-Usa  
out of here, and call and ambulance!" she yelled, as she tried to restrain  
Haruka's jerking body. Michiru burst in the room a few seconds later to  
help.  
  
Rei felt the stronger girl take over, and as Michiru wrestled Haruka  
to the ground, Rei pried open Haruka's jaws. She ran her hooked finger over  
the back of Haruka's throat, and dislodged the tongue stuck there. Haruka  
began to breathe in large, hoarse rasps as her respiratory system kicked  
in. Still unconscious, she subsided in Michiru's arms. For the rest of  
her life, Rei would never forget that day, and the sight of Haruka in  
Michiru's embrace as the ambulance attendants arrived to take her to the  
hospital.  
  
Two days later, the worst news they could imagine came in. The oxygen  
deprivation that Haruka's brain experienced had damaged many brain cells.   
She would be a vegetable for the rest of her life. And as another year  
went by, the senshi withdrew upon themselves, until that fateful day in  
summer next.  
  
* * *  
  
Minako stood on the street corner, looking for her next trick. She  
only needed one more customer, and she would have enough money to get her  
next hit. She would have to endure the four she needed to do for her pimp  
after that, but she could dream about her fix then.  
  
Not much was left of her once firm, lush body. Her pallid skin clung  
to her emaciated frame. Her legs showed too thin in the black miniskirt  
she wore, and the red vinyl halter covered scant amounts of her scrawny  
body. She did not read the papers anymore, only slept and worked and  
injected her drugs. Thus, she was unaware of the Chinese invasion of  
Taiwan, and the talk of retaliation by the United States of America.  
  
High heels clicked up behind her. She turned in irritation, noticing  
first the kneehigh black leather boots, and scandalously short black  
miniskirt of the other woman. This was supposed to be HER turf. Then she  
noticed the red bow on the woman's chest and the glowing staff. Riding on  
her shoulder was Artemis, her long forgotten white cat.  
  
"S-Sailor Pluto?", she croaked.  
  
"Here", replied Pluto, handing some items to her. "A plane ticket to  
Tokyo, five hundred dollars, and some drugs to get you through. I need you  
at the Tokyo Tower by three o'clock tomorrow. Don't forget to bring  
Artemis", she added, handing him down to Minako. As Minako stood there,  
stunned, Pluto turned on her heel and vanished through one of her  
ubiquitous green portals.  
  
* * *  
  
  
Ami was at home after having been let out of Detox. She had shown up  
at work the week before, in the grip of delirium tremors, ranting and  
raving. Her mother had sent her to emergency, where they discovered a  
potentially lethal amount of alcohol in her body. She was immediately  
transferred to the detoxification centre, where she was watched over by  
trained staff until her DT's disappeared. A day of education followed.  
  
"You are an alcoholic, Ami", stated the doctor. "You will always be an  
alcoholic. The next drink could kill you. It doesn't matter whether it is  
five days or five years from now, the next time you drink could be the  
last. We have lots of counselling available. Also, there is a chapter of  
Alcoholics Anonymous near you. I am releasing you, of course, but I  
strongly advise you to attend the AA meeting tomorrow. I will have  
somebody pick you up."  
  
She had ignored the advice, not caring whether she lived or died  
anymore. The morning paper was full of the news that the United States of  
America had declared war on China. Some sort of devastation was  
inevitable, so she might as well have one last good drunk before the big  
bang.  
  
It hit her like a load of bricks. She retched, shuddered, then raced  
towards the bathroom. She almost made it. She was lying there in misery,  
face in the toilet, when out of the corner of her eyes she noticed a pair  
of black boots six inches from her head. She looked weakly up at Sailor  
Pluto.   
  
"Ami, I need you at the Tokyo Tower by three o'clock today. I'll try  
to make amends to you then. Don't be late."  
  
Ami stared after the vanishing Sailor Pluto. She was trying to figure  
out if this was just another fantasy from her delusional mind. Ten minutes  
later, she noticed the bootprint in the vomit on the bathroom floor.   
Jolted out of her reverie, she scrambled to get ready.  
  
* * *  
  
Rei was at Mamoru's, updating him on the latest news of Ami. He was  
staring at the newspaper, and the blaring headlines that foretold doom.   
His daughter was having her late morning nap. They looked at each other,  
levelly.  
  
"You know what this means?", asked Mamoru. His voice had gone husky.  
  
"Yes", whispered Rei.  
  
Mamoru stood up, and held Rei's hands in his. He noticed again, as he  
always did as though it were the first time, her beauty. Wide sensuous  
lips, challenging eyes, lustrously black hair, slim, imperious body, and  
the diabolus that lurked at the corner of her mouth, unbottled like a genie  
at command. Her worldliness had always been a counterpoint to Usagi's  
innocence, and they had shared something at one time, but he was not a cad,  
and Usagi had always been the woman for him. He had entertained thoughts  
in his head over the last three years, but had suppressed them as unworthy.   
Did it matter, now that the world was ending?  
  
Rei thrilled to his touch. His sapphire eyes, gazing down at hers,  
held that maddeningly superior tinge to them, as if he was born to command.   
His virile body was charged with energy, like a panther coiled to spring.   
He held that magnetism that attracted women through time and space, and he  
had loved her once. She had often wished it could be again.  
  
"I wish...", they both began, simultaneously, then stopped.  
  
"Rei", Mamoru tried again, his voice coming hard through his throat.   
"Since Usagi died, there has never been anyone else. Now, though, at the  
end of things, do you think she would begrudge this?"  
  
"No", she replied, "no, I don't think she would. She always had a  
great heart." She interlaced her hands behind his head, and drew him down  
to kiss her. They were interrupted by the door opening. Sailor Pluto  
stood there, dressed to kill in uniform and staff.  
  
"Kids", she almost snorted, "there's no time to play. I need you at  
the Tokyo Tower in three and a half hours. The world is ending, and we  
have to do something about it."  
  
Mamoru disentangled himself from Rei's embrace. "You!", he  
challenged. "Who the hell are you to come storming in here and giving me  
orders?". His body was rigid with suppressed anger and tension.  
  
"You are the Prince of the Earth, though you know it not yet", calmly  
answered Pluto. "It is time to assume your mantle. Not all need be lost.   
Be at the Tower in three hours and see. Or stay here and die." Before  
Mamoru could frame a retort, she slammed her staff on the apartment floor  
and stepped through a conveniently opening portal.  
  
Mamoru looked at Rei. "I'll get Chibi-Usa up. We'll see what she  
wants." He turned and entered the bedroom, leaving a slightly bewildered  
Rei standing there.  
  
* * *  
  
A green glow filled Hotaru's hospital room. Except for her hair, she  
looked the same as Pluto had last left her, three years ago. For the first  
time, she felt an amelioration of her guilt. She was glad that she had  
decided not to kill Sailor Saturn. She would be needed at some point in  
the next six hundred years. The Messiah of Silence to end the Silence -  
how fitting. She picked her sleeping form up, and cradled her tenderly in  
her arms.  
  
Back in Limbo, she deposited Hotaru by the Time Gate. She opened the  
temporal stasis chamber that she would no longer need, and laid her gently  
in the tomb-like enclosure. She remembered her reawakening of Sailor  
Saturn, six centuries hence. The thought made her think, for the last time  
in her long life, about the strange role of tense in the language of  
Temporal Physics. The future was a promise for both of them. She had no  
time to muse, however.  
  
Uranus and Neptune were next, thought Pluto. Now that she had hidden  
Saturn safely away, where she could not menace the earth for centuries, she  
must get busy again. She had to hurry though, as Jupiter was going to need  
her. She sighed. Being a Time Guardian was not easy.  
  
* * *  
  
Michiru was playing the violin when Pluto arrived. She had seen the  
flames and the frost in her mirror. She had painted it, in two horrific  
pictures, for Haruka. One, had a city engulfed in flames. The other,  
silent glaciers covering the planet. She knew they had produced a reaction  
in Haruka, as she had tried to mumble something, and her eyes moved.  
  
People had always chided her for her seeming passivity, but she never  
minded. She did what was needful, and enjoyed what she could along the  
way. It had been a good ride, and she still loved Haruka. Now she played  
a song for Haruka, one she had written over the last year, in Dorian mode.   
It encapsulated their life, bright and lively and masterful, full of war,  
now quiet and placid, then bittersweet like tears. At times, her violin  
sounded like two. It was perhaps the most masterful piece ever written for  
violin, but would now go unheard throughout eternity.  
  
She knew, too, when Sailor Pluto entered the room. She kept her  
waiting while she finished her song, the last notes trailing off so sweetly  
that it took all of Pluto's efforts to keep her eyes dry.  
  
"Sailor Neptune", greeted Pluto.  
  
"Sailor Pluto", nodded Michiru. "It's the end of all things, isn't  
it?"  
  
"An end, and a beginning. Which would you be part of?"  
  
"The end", emphatically stated Michiru. Pluto was startled. "We have  
fought the good fight. Now, Uranus lies helpless, and I have accomplished  
all I can, or am likely to do. The ending will be a gift of grace."  
  
"What", slowly answered Pluto, "if I told you that I could offer a  
grace so overwhelming as to assuage all griefs? A new beginning, with  
Uranus strong again by your side?"  
  
"I would think you lied."  
  
"Today, of all days, I am strong enough to encompass it," she stated,  
in what Michiru thought incredulously was a tear-filled voice. She looked,  
but Pluto had already composed herself. "The world ends at three o'clock  
today", Pluto continued in a matter of fact voice. "So what have you got  
to lose? Bring Haruka, and meet me at the Tokyo Tower before then."  
  
Michiru nodded, then turned her back on Pluto, walking towards Uranus.   
She did not bother to watch Pluto leave.  
  
* * *  
  
This was the day, Makoto had decided. She had had enough. She would  
gather the remnants of her pride, and kick Ukyo out. It looked as if  
another, larger nuclear war would take place, and she might not live  
through it. At least she would go with the vestiges of dignity.  
  
She was waiting for him when he came in. She had already packed his  
bags, and had piled them at the kitchen door. Now she spoke to him.   
  
"Get out!" Two words, but her clenched fists and battle-ready posture  
spoke volumes.  
  
"You silly bitch!", he sneered. "I haven't finished with you. Don't  
you know the world is ending? There are things we still haven't done yet!"  
  
"Get out!", she repeated. "We're through."  
  
"Oh no", he replied, "I'm not done with you. But you'll wish I was.   
Do you hear the looting outside? It seems some bombs are headed to Tokyo  
as we speak. So it's time to have my long-delayed fun." From behind his  
back he pulled out a shortbladed sword, a ninja-to, and advanced quickly  
towards her.  
  
Makoto realized this had gotten way too serious. She grabbed her  
henshin wand out of the folds of her robe and held it aloft. At that  
moment, the sword blade entered her unprotected torso. She staggered back  
in pain, as he ripped the blade out and grinned at her. Somehow, she  
managed to cry out those almost forgotten words, "JUPITER CRYSTAL POWER...  
MAKE UP!". The ribbons and lights swirled around her, green skirt and pink  
bow attaching themselves to her magically fabricated white leotard. As he  
stood, gaping at her, she blew him through the wall and into eternity with  
a SPARKLING WIDE PRESSURE, about all she could manage at this juncture.  
  
She was still lying there, gasping and holding her side when Pluto  
appeared. Pluto looked down upon Jupiter's supine form, and said simply  
"You'll live. Now come, we have an appointment." She hoisted the heavy  
girl over her shoulders, and stepped through a portal to her appointment  
with destiny.  
  
* * *  
  
They were all gathered on the highest observation deck of the Tokyo  
Tower, two hundred and fifty metres above the city. Somehow, each had  
managed to make it to the rendezvous point. There was nobody else in the  
building, as everyone had fled home, or to basements, or to churches to  
pray. The view from here was magnificent, but nobody bothered to look,  
their attention centred rather on each other. This was in its own way a  
pity, as the sight would never be seen again.  
  
None of the senshi were transformed, with the obvious exception of  
Sailor Jupiter, and the inscrutable Sailor Pluto. Mamoru held three-year-  
old Chibi-Usa by one hand, while glaring at the aloof and intimidating  
figure of Sailor Pluto. A weakly vomiting Ami, doctor's instincts still  
functioning, was crawling shakily on all fours towards the supine form of  
the bleeding Sailor Jupiter, who had collapsed scant minutes ago upon  
arrival. Rei was hugging Minako, while staring in dismay at her unhealthy,  
anemic figure. The newly reunited Luna and Artemis crouched side by side,  
off to the side, their tails lashing in helpless frustration. Michiru had  
turned to Haruka to wipe the drool off her mouth as Haruka vainly tried to  
whisper incoherent words.  
  
Drawing herself to her full, imposing height, Sailor Pluto broke the  
silence. "King Endymion, senshi", she started, nodding towards Mamoru.   
All activity ceased, and every eye turned towards her. "Three years ago,  
some necessary but painful events transpired. As Guardian of Time, I  
played my part. Now, as the world is being destroyed, my plan has reached  
fruition, and I must pay my cost." She tossed her Time Staff into the air.  
  
The staff did not drop. It hung, suspended, in mid-air. Sailor Pluto  
raised outstretched hands, and tendrils of raw green power could be seen  
flowing from her fingertips into the staff. It started to rotate, slowly,  
then picked up speed like a helicopter blade. Soon, it was spinning in the  
middle of a green blur, the staff itself no longer visible to the human  
eye. Eyes popping, and now visibly weakening, Sailor Pluto kept  
channelling energy into the spinning vortex. It grew in intensity and  
depth, taking on the resemblance of a portal to another dimension. The  
watching senshi could just discern a misshapen human form starting to  
emerge from the portal, when their attention was diverted to Sailor Pluto.  
  
Sailor Pluto shrieked, and exploded in a shower of sparks. Rose  
petals filled the air where she had stood a second ago. The Time Staff  
shivered into pieces, the Garnet Orb falling to the floor and rolling over  
to finally stop beside a shocked Luna and Artemis. The rose petals  
themselves were sucked into the green portal, which then disappeared as the  
mysterious figure summoned by Pluto coalesced. They all gasped in shock.  
  
* * *  
  
Launched from a silo deep in the Chinese hinterland, an inter-  
continental ballistic missile headed for Tokyo, the capital city of Japan,  
that hedonistic symbol of the insidious disease of Western capitalism. The  
nuclear weapon was armed with ten nuclear warheads, although one bomb would  
have been enough to level Tokyo. In military terms, this was called  
'redundancy', and it certainly was. In fact, even one nuclear warhead  
would have been enough for the task.  
  
Each warhead was a small (in nuclear parlance) two megaton bomb, one  
hundred and fifty times more powerful than the bomb that levelled  
Hiroshima. It packed the destructive power of four billion kilos of TNT,  
the equivalent of all the bombs dropped in the Second World War, inflicted  
in a mere split second, and confined in an area of about twenty square   
miles. Ten of these were on their way to Tokyo, and no force on earth  
could stop them.  
  
An observer on the missile would have noticed the traffic jams on the  
streets below, the abandoned cars and panicky mob of people. Some merely  
stared fatalistically at the sky, while others futilely tried to hide in  
deep basements. Their earthly cares were soon ended.  
  
On the final approach to the city, the bombs were scattered into a  
burst pattern designed to give maximum target area coverage. In a scenario  
being played out over every city in the Northern hemisphere, the nuclear  
fuses were lit, and rapidly fissioning plutonium provided the necessary  
energy to start fusion reactions inside the missiles. The energy of the  
sun was for the first and final time unleashed upon the earth, with  
devastating consequences.  
  
Ten giant fireballs exploded over the city, temperatures at the core  
of the explosion exceeding forty million degrees Celsius. The light would  
have been too blinding to look at, if anyone could have observed. This was  
impossible, however, as the radiation from the explosions traversed the  
city at the speed of light, instantaneously igniting towering fires in  
every city block, and flash frying every human in their path. Not even  
human bones were left, as they were simply incinerated into ash, their  
forms burned into buildings and pavemarks as charcoal silhouettes.  
  
The vacuum caused by the heat of the fireball sucked in copious  
amounts of debris, dirt, smoke and burning oil, ejecting it high into the  
atmosphere in a boiling mushroom cloud. Ten of these clouds now dominated  
what once was Tokyo, towering forty thousand feet above the ruins. Any  
people unlucky enough not to have been instantly killed in the first nano-  
second of the explosion, were seconds later sucked bodily into the fiery  
inferno as if plucked by a giant hand. Their remains would mingle with the  
nuclear waste that would soon rain down on the surrounding countryside in a  
deadly black rain to inflict a painful, long-term suffering death on the  
rural population.  
  
Following slowly behind at a leisurely kilometre every three seconds  
came the shockwave. It pushed down all buildings in its path, starting new  
fires. One minute after the explosions, twenty million people had ceased  
to exist, and the city was one massive raging firestorm, visible to any  
Martians that may have been watching. Buried under the pall of smoke, only  
one building was left standing in the entire city of Tokyo...  
  
  
  
Chapter 4 - 'Immutatrix Mundi'  
  
  
"For she was clad in vesture more shining than the flame of fire, and  
with twisted armlets and glistering earrings of flower-fashion. About  
her delicate neck were lovely jewels, fair and golden: and like the  
moon's was the light on her fair breasts..."  
  
- Homer, "Hymn to Aphrodite"  
  
  
"Ces serments, ces parfums, ces baisers infinis,  
Renƒitront-ils d'un gouffre interdit … nos sondes,  
Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis  
AprŠs s'ˆtre lav‚s au fond des mers profondes?"  
  
- Baudelaire, "Le Balcon"  
  
  
  
She was drifting, unseeing, as in a mist. How long she had been  
drifting, she did not know. Ten minutes? Ten years? Ten million years?   
Who could say? Time had no meaning here, where there were no heart beats,  
no measured minutes, no lifting breaths.  
  
Where was here? Again, she had no clue. It was only lately that she  
had awakened to consciousness, that is the self-reflective thought process  
that recognizes its own existence. 'Je pense, donc je suis', had said  
Descartes. Had she known the quote, she may have thought about the  
corollary, but thinking had never been her strong point. She struggled  
just to remember herself.  
  
She. Herself. These were gender words. Female. How do I know this,  
she thought? I am a woman. Was a woman. What am I now? Longer  
reflection pointed a conclusion; I must be dead. But then, why do I live?   
Or do I? Confusion set in for an immeasurable time while she pondered  
existence, and her identity. Yes, the will existed, the thought existed -  
she existed. And she had been a woman, and she was now dead. But who was  
she?  
  
  
The effort to think was almost physical, like struggling through  
molasses. How much time passed, she could not say. Then images started to  
swim into view, vivid hued and alive, almost palpable. Strong  
undercurrents shot through them, glimpses of life and death and sorrow, and  
a great turning cycle of rebirth and love and pain and then, death again.   
Had she tear glands, she would have wept. There she was cradling a dying  
man in black armour - Mamoru! Again, more images, the same man lying  
crumpled beneath a giant tree, on a street of blood, bathed in a glow on an  
airplane, and always herself bearing the pain, the pain. And as if Mamoru  
had been the gateway, her memories came flooding back. And oh, how painful  
and secret they were.  
  
The bright thread of her love for Mamoru wove its way through her life  
like a glittering skein through a tapestry. From a three-year-old Usagi  
handing a bright red rose to a scared little boy in a hospital room, to  
another hospital room where she had met her tragic death beside the now  
grown up man, there was always him, Mamoru, always Mamoru, forever Mamoru,  
overriding her other images with the relentlessness of true need. Peeping  
out from behind were glimpses of times that she had not known to be  
important until now.  
  
There was Naru, her dearest friend, her greatest failure, estranged,  
shunted aside, by a Sailor Moon fighting to save the world with her great  
love, while denying that same solace to her best friend from childhood.   
Vexed and exasperated by a suddenly unfathomable and seemingly fickle  
Usagi, Naru had moved on to her own circle of friends and vanished from her  
life. The anguish of that betrayal came back to haunt her now.  
  
Intertwined with her memories of Naru was the image of Nephlite, an  
enemy that confounded her fledgling ideas of love and justice. Bound in  
service to an evil queen, whom he served to the best of his ability, he  
still found the strength to respond to the pure love of a young girl, and  
was thus redeemed. This grace was a dispensation not granted by herself,  
although she could have done so; another failure.  
  
Prince Dimando, overmastered by desire, she had not loved. How could  
she? He had tried to take her away from her destiny, and force his  
attentions upon her. But in the end, he had died to save her, and that had  
to be worth something.  
  
There was more. There was something so overwhelmingly important that  
its presence demanded to make itself felt. Her death...the hospital...she  
had just finished having a...  
  
Before she could finish grasping the thought, she sensed another  
presence. *Mother?*, she sent, wonderingly. her thoughts were shocked out  
of her reverie to the present.  
  
*Here, child*, came the return voice. In her mind's eye, she saw her  
mother, Queen Serenity, dressed in gossamer, and floating with gauzy wings  
on a non-existent breeze, that ethereal spirit who had often comforted her  
in her darkest hours. She was smiling with a mother's love and pride at  
Usagi.  
  
*Darling Usagi*, she addressed her, *we have waited so long for this  
moment. Millennia of breeding have now been culminated. Do you remember  
your death?*  
  
Her thoughts were dragged bodily back to that moment, against her  
will, the wounds of time still deeply bleeding within her. *Yes*.  
  
*And do you remember Pluto's purpose?*  
  
*Dimly*, she replied. *I saw some truth in her mind, but it was hard  
to comprehend. I trusted her. She said it would save the world.*  
  
*Yes*, breathed Queen Serenity. *You made a great sacrifice. I have  
become a bit of an expert in that field since... my own... a thousand years  
ago. Pluto taught me well. Do you realize what you did?*  
  
*Not really*, thought back Usagi, a bit uncertainly.  
  
*The value of a sacrifice*, explained Queen Serenity, *is dependent  
upon two things; the value of the object sacrificed, and the value of the  
object saved. You sacrificed the most valuable object you can possibly  
sacrifice - your life. That in itself generates a tremendous amount of  
power. Couple with that your sacrifice, made on faith alone that it would  
save the entire world - there can be no greater object than that. Your  
existence here is a projection of the vast amount of power thus stored up  
by your act. I, too, am here because of the power stored when I unleashed  
the ginzuishou on Queen Beryl and Metallia.*  
  
She continued, *Now, that is all well and good to have all this power  
floating around, but in its raw form it is useless, and it dissipates over  
time. You are currently a hundred times more powerful than I am, as your  
sacrifice was made so recently. But this power needs knowledge and wisdom  
and form to be effective, and usually once we are dead, in the spirit  
world, we are incapable of acting. However, Pluto has come up with a way  
to supply a trigger, so all we need to do is shape your power so you can  
use it.*  
  
*We?*, wondered Usagi. *Who is 'we'?*  
  
*Every spirit sufficiently powerful to still be around who has given  
their life in some noble sacrifice. We spirits in our wandering  
occasionally come into contact with other like-minded spirits, and we have  
all agreed to lend our aid to you, as foretold by the Jovian prophecies  
fifty thousand years ago. We will fill you with our power and knowledge.   
Come, let me join you.*  
  
Usagi hesitated. *Fifty thousand years ago?", she demanded  
incredulously.  
  
*Yes child, Pluto wrote those words before civilization even existed  
on the planet Earth. Let us help.*  
  
She was awed. Knowing that she had been prepared for for fifty  
thousand years was too heavy. But it was impossible to refuse the burden.   
Too much was at stake for her own opinion to matter. Mentally, Usagi  
nodded. *Okay, I'm ready*, she lied. *I am your handmaid. Let it be done  
as you wish.*  
  
The first touch on her brain was like a gentle caress. Her mother's  
mind melded with her own. She could feel the power siphoning into her, as  
she absorbed her mother's spirit. With it came the entirety of the queen's  
life, stripped bare for her to see in all its rawness. All her mother's  
knowledge and experience and pain was there for her to use, if she could  
only process it. As the link solidified, the images came faster, the mind  
conduit expanding as if it would fill the entire universe. She saw it all  
- her mother's secret affair, her own birth, her father's death and  
betrayal, the gathering of the senshi, the final battle with Metallia. She  
felt as if she would burst.  
  
Her aura was glowing, now from within, the increased power lighting  
her up like a beacon for all to see. Still reeling from the information  
overload and the trauma of reliving an entire life, she felt another touch  
on her mind. This time it was her grandmother, Serenity IV, who died to  
preserve a Martian colony from alien attack, a catastrophe that prompted  
the inner planets to create senshi of their own like the outer planets had,  
in order to protect all future heirs and rulers of the Lunar line. The  
first meeting of Luna and Artemis, the interdiction of Earth, and the  
strange fate of the senshi of the asteroid belt impressed themselves on her  
mind, as her subconscious processed the data of another entire lifetime.  
  
After a while, it all became a blur. Life merged into life, until her  
conscious brain lacked the ability to distinguish details with any clarity.  
On the earth, in the mundane world, seasons passed, and the world  
progressed on its way to nuclear destruction, yet still the lives filled  
her. Lovers she had never known, battles she had never fought, were lived  
over and over. She was Hero plunging into the waves, Boadicea on a war  
chariot, Jeanne d'Arc burning on a fiery pillar. All the while, the power  
and knowledge gathered, illuminating her from within with an intense glow.   
It was too much, too fast, and she was voicelessly screaming as her  
identity was stripped away. She no longer knew who she was, she was just a  
vessel prepared by hopefully benign beings for a higher purpose. A corner  
of her mind still tried to cling to some sort of identity, she was losing  
it - and then it was over.   
  
The clamour had died down, and the mental silence was deafening. She  
hung metaphorically in the air, crucified on the cross of love and justice,  
synapses numbed and senses not functioning. After an interminable pause,  
her brain began working again. She sifted through the memories, trying to  
regain her sense of self, and then she felt it. The ginzuishou.  
  
Like a beacon calling shipwrecked Ulysses to his beloved Ithaca, the  
ginzuishou guided her to the memories locked away. Her friends were  
waiting for her there, their memories all polished and new. There was Ami,  
shy and diffident, upon whom she could always rely. Minako, brash and  
confident, the most experienced of their little group in battle. Brave and  
impulsive Makoto winked at her, her heart as ever on her sleeve. The fiery  
Rei, her closest friend, was still scoffing at her in her particular  
display of love. Mamoru in his tux looked devilishly handsome, and she saw  
her future daughter, Chibi-Usa, and then she remembered who she was and  
what her purpose was.  
  
She would return, Pluto had seen to that, but she would be sterile in  
her new incarnation. She had learned that from her mother's spirit, a  
mother who had loved her daughter so fanatically that a thosand years of  
death was not enough to dim her love. Pluto had been forced to wait until  
after Chibi-Usa's birth before she could put her plan into action, but by  
then the world was already about to go up in flames. Pluto had no margin  
of error. She would return, thanks to Pluto's sacrifice, in glory, with  
power and wisdom and strength and honour, to rule the world and set things  
to rights. All she needed was the time to tap the thousand accumulated  
lifetimes in her head. But she would not get that time. The thousand days  
she had spent absorbing the thousand lives that filled her had brought the  
deadline too close. Already the world was about to burn.  
  
She felt the call, that little draining from another world, and saw  
the glowing portal. She drifted towards it, feeling the power of the  
summoning and the increased desperation of the summoner, and then she was  
there, and she was through, Sailor Pluto's tortured soul passing her  
incandescent one, and like the sun she was as she burst into the room,  
where her friends awaited.  
  
* * *  
  
Rei was the first to see her clearly. In place of the now vanished  
portal, there floated scant inches above the ground the most beautiful  
vision human eyes had ever beheld. She was like in form to an angel, soft  
feathery wings lightly strumming the air, bathed in a pure golden-white  
light. The brilliance radiating from her blinded their sight, but Rei's  
searching eyes made their way past the streaming light and cascading glory  
to the figure inside.  
  
She seemed taller than in her previous life, and fairer of hair and  
finer of features. Her skin was of alabaster smoothness, and every  
lineament betrayed grace and surety. The simple white dress gave the  
impression, not as a cover for nakedness, but a mantle to cloak her  
puissance and greatness. Raw power fairly oozed out of her, although she  
was clearly holding it in. Her luminous blue eyes were rounder, and  
larger, and deeper and clearer than they had ever been. She WAS  
perfection. Rei saw her look around the room, once, quickly, before she  
settled down gracefully to the floor. It was too much for Rei.  
  
"USAGI !", she shrieked.  
  
Mamoru was on his feet now, also, his frame tensed with a fierce  
eagerness. His loud, whispered "Usako?!" could be heard across the room.   
His body was straining to reach her, but his feet seemed tied to the floor.   
  
Michiru broke the spell. "No. Not Usagi. Serenity." The words  
echoed like a final sentence. She slumped to her knees, eyes still fixed  
on Serenity, a look of wondered fear, joy and hope blazing in her eyes.  
  
And then SHE spoke.  
  
"I am not Usagi."  
  
The timbre of that beautiful, rich soprano voice sent a thrilling  
shiver down Rei's spine. Glancing over at Mamoru, she noticed he too had  
felt it. Her heart was beating faster, and she felt as if it might pop out  
of her chest at any minute.  
  
"Usagi died three years ago. I am something less, and more. I AM  
Serenity, Neo-Queen Serenity, and I will rule this world with all the love  
and wisdom I possess. My friends, let me look at you." Neo-Queen Serenity  
stopped to look at each person in turn, pointedly ignoring Mamoru and her  
daughter for now. Just the thought of holding her little daughter again  
sent shivers of desire and longing through her. Those first few moments  
would be too private to share. She decided that her first target was Ami.  
  
She sorrowed as she looked at her gentle friend's ragged appearance.   
She was owed more than most. "Ami", she whispered, stretching out her  
hand. "Look, and be healed". A flash of light came coruscating out of her  
hand, appearing to dance briefly on Ami's brow, before being absorbed into  
Ami's body. Ami saw it all. Relived it all.  
  
She saw the birth of Chibi-Usa, her mother watching her, and noticed  
as she made all the right steps. She saw revealed to her, for the first  
time, the actions of Sailor Pluto, and with it came the healing benediction  
of realization. It was not her fault, had never been her fault. The flame  
of Neo-Queen Serenity's love washed over her, burning away the alcohol  
poisoning, the dependency, and her self-doubts. A brief second later, in a  
flash of unexpected pyrotechnics, she transformed into Super Sailor  
Mercury. She was on her knees now, crying, while Neo-Queen Serenity moved  
along to Minako.  
  
Minako's appearance hurt Neo-Queen Serenity even more than Ami's. The  
depths into which she had sunk, the sorrow of Artemis, all were easy for  
her to read. Not ungently, she released her fire. "Minako. Be well."  
  
The flaming tongue danced over Minako before being subsumed into her  
body. The relentless fire burned through her system, cleansing her of her  
addiction. Neo-Queen Serenity trembled in compassion, as she had  
experienced the same sensations during her education in the afterlife. To  
Minako, the cleansing was agony, but she somehow lived through it.   
Afterwards, for the first time in three years, Minako felt well.   
Liveliness imbued itself throughout her body. All her doubts and fears  
were cast away. With it came a healthy flush to her skin, and an  
involuntary transmutation into Super Sailor Venus. She too, knelt before  
her queen.  
  
Neo-Queen Serenity now transferred her gaze to the bleeding Sailor  
Jupiter. Her kind heart sank even further. Her progression through her  
protectors had gone from bad to worse. Pluto, she thought to herself, why  
didn't you tell me how it would be? Her spirit cried, but her voice said  
clearly, "Sailor Jupiter, please join me again".  
  
Jupiter, true to her nature, fastened eagerly to the waiting spark.   
She gloried in its strength, gritting her teeth against the pain as her  
wounds healed. Still weak from a dramatic loss of blood, but running on  
adrenaline, she raised herself to her knees, where she rested for a while  
to gaze on the perfection that had been, and still maybe was, her friend.  
  
With a slight lift of her wings, Neo-Queen Serenity then glided  
effortlessly to where Michiru was kneeling beside Haruka's wheelchair.   
She had never been extremely close to the Outer Senshi, but she knew that  
they always did their duty to the best of their abilities. She wondered  
where Sailor Saturn was, and whether Pluto had had plans for her too.   
Still hovering, she addressed Michiru.  
  
"I know you have never asked anything for yourself, but everyone  
deserves a second chance at happiness. And I will need all your help in  
the years to come." Her voice changed to a bit of a sharper note. "Sailor  
Uranus - Arise and walk!", she commanded. Her glow encompassed the pair in  
an impenetrable opacity.  
  
Within the glow, Haruka felt the miracle. Synapses, long forgotten in  
disuse, fired again as her neural blockage was freed. Vertebrae crackled  
into place with painful suddenness. Memories, speech, thought, movement,  
all came to her simultaneously. The pain overwhelmed her. She screamed in  
agony, and bounded to her feet. The aura around the couple exploded, and  
Rei could see a whole Super Sailor Uranus weeping and hugging a joyously  
disbelieving Super Sailor Neptune. They then knelt in homage to their new  
queen. Rei knew now that never would they question a decision of Neo-Queen  
Serenity's. She had gained two fanatic servants this day. She shuddered  
as Neo-Queen Serenity turned to her.  
  
"Rei".  
  
That was all she said, all that needed to be said. Rei reached out  
and touched the hand of the vision, of her queen, of her friend. Her  
piercing eyes made contact with the queen's, her fire dancing up her arm in  
a mingling of white-gold and orange-red flames. They stood there, as the  
flames danced over each other like lovers, glances locked. Rei had been  
searching for some trace of Usagi in those eyes, but all she saw was the  
deep, compassionate eyes of a stranger with the accumulated knowledge and  
wisdom of a thousand life times.  
  
"Why?", Rei rasped hoarsely. There could, of course, be no answer to  
that question, and they both knew it. Innocence, once lost, is never  
recaptured.  
  
"Oh Rei, I am so sorry", gently responded Neo-Queen Serenity. She  
enfolded Rei in her arms, and softly kissed her ruby lips. "Know that I  
still love you."  
  
Rei was trapped by the tenderness. In that kiss she felt the spark of  
her friend, not quite lost forever. She realized now that she was  
hopelessly, irrevocably bound to her queen in chains of love. With an act  
of her own conscious will, she transformed into Super Sailor Mars, and  
knelt down on one knee.  
  
Last of all, Neo-Queen Serenity turned to Mamoru. He still towered  
over her, even in her new form, and although a bit gaunt with fatigue and  
strain, he was still impossibly handsome. "Mamo-chan", she said half  
apologetically, and deliberately using her pet name for him, "it is time  
for King Endymion."  
  
Like a lion unleashed from its cage to feast on a helpless morsel, so  
did he stride towards her. In midstep he morphed into his rugged black  
armour, replete with greatsword and booted feet. With two hands he gripped  
her about the ribcage, picked up her feathery body, and pinned her against  
the wall. His lips crushed hers with all the pentup passion of three years  
of loneliness, his body seeking to find the answers he needed in her.  
  
Her tinkling laugh rang out merrily. "Endymion, there will be time  
for play later. Right now I have a greater purpose." She gently  
disengaged from him, and gazing sorrowfully at the lonely Garnet orb,  
remembering Setsuna's sacrifice, addressed the gathered senshi.  
  
"My friends, right now the world is in the process of destroying  
itself, and I can not stop that. As I speak, ten nuclear bombs are about  
to explode right here over Tokyo." The senshi all gasped at that, but she  
continued serenely. "Thanks to Sailor Pluto, who has given her life for the  
cause," here she glanced meaningfully at Mamoru and Ami, "I am here to  
salvage what little we can. I cannot protect the entire Tokyo area from  
the destructive power of twenty million tons of TNT. I can only protect a  
small area, about the size of this tower."  
  
Rei gasped as the realization hit her. "But, but, that means twenty  
million people are going to DIE RIGHT HERE!!" She shrieked the last three  
words out, like an accusation. The other senshi were shocked, whether by  
Neo-Queen Serenity's words, or by Rei's blasphemy, it was hard to tell.   
Neo-Queen Serenity looked sadly at Rei. She hated what she had to say.  
  
"Yes, Rei, and five billion more across the planet. And I can't stop  
them. How do you think that makes me feel?" She could feel her control  
start to slip, but drew on the reserves of her other lives, and reined  
herself in. She could not afford to lose control now. "I will do what I  
can do now, and tomorrow work towards what future we can salvage. I will  
need all your help. Please forgive me?" Numbly, Rei nodded.  
  
As if Rei's assent had been her cue, a glow started to emanate from  
Neo-Queen Serenity. As it engulfed the senshi, they felt the overpowering  
empathy of the queen enter their systems. The glow increased in intensity  
until it was a blinding white envelope encasing the tower.  
  
A shock wave suddenly rocked the shield, then another, and another.   
Rei saw the edges of the protective sphere buckle, and sweat start to bead  
itself on Neo-Queen Serenity's brow. Then Mamoru, no, Endymion, was there,  
supporting his love. The power of the very earth that was being so ravaged  
and pummelled was channelled into her body. The senshi needed no further  
prompting. As one, they rose and formed a circle of joined hands around  
the royal couple. The strength of their planets infused into their Queen.   
  
Outside, blazing firestorms a thousand feet high were raging around  
the tower. Then, they were silenced. Neo-Queen Serenity slowly pushed the  
sphere outwards, the flames extinguishing themselves as the shield moved  
over them towards the city's perimeter. The senshi had long dropped from  
exhaustion when Neo-Queen Serenity finally sagged back into King Endymion's  
strong arms.  
  
The silence was broken by the clacking of a keyboard. Rei looked over  
at Sailor Mercury, who, visor down and computer out, was taking readings of  
the situation. Rei scrambled to her feet and looked out the observation  
deck over the city. She caught her breath with the fragile beauty of it  
all. The city's buildings were all levelled, no structures standing more  
than one story high as far as the eye could see. Above was an impossibly  
blue sky gleaming through a transparent crystal dome covering the entire  
city. Beneath it, the ruins had all crystallized into sparkling glass  
sculptures of impossibly varied shapes. No living things moved.  
  
"Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang", quoted Rei. It  
was hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Sailor Mercury started  
talking.  
  
"This is amazing. There is no radiation residue at all in the city.   
I am detecting fragmented human life signs underneath the city, and the  
refracting crystal overhead is high enough into the atmosphere that it is  
above all blast debris. It is also redirecting the sun's light into the  
city to provide heat and warmth. I can get no readings of its make or  
composition, though."  
  
"That's because I am immune to scanning now, Mercury", came Neo-Queen  
Serenity's voice, "and that dome is a part of me. It is transparent to any  
human entry or physical attacks, but is strong enough to keep out the  
weather. There are no longer any weapons capabilities left on earth to  
destroy it. Those life signs you read are those who were sufficiently  
underground to escape the initial destruction of the bombs. I have  
purified them, and they will start to come out of their dwellings and make  
their way into the palace. We will welcome them, and others will come over  
the years, and we will welcome and purify them too. In time, we will  
create a new paradise on earth, with no need for weapons or war. But  
first, we must pool all our resources, and we have lost another senshi  
today. An Ice Age is coming to cover the earth, and we have much to do to  
prepare."  
  
Luna spoke up. "Is Sailor Pluto really dead then?"  
  
Neo-Queen Serenity bent over and picked the black cat up. "Hello  
Luna", she said, cuddling her. "I'm afraid so."  
  
"But what about the future?", asked a puzzled Artemis. "We've seen  
her in the future."  
  
"Pluto could travel time", she responded, "and did not live linearly.   
I am afraid she has seen her last wanderings. But we will see her again in  
the future, before this time has happened for her."  
  
"But weren't you dead also? What has happened to you?", asked Sailor  
Venus.  
  
"I'm afraid that right now I can only discuss that with Endymion,  
Venus", replied Neo-Queen Serenity, gazing at the little daughter so  
tragically snatched away from her. She knew that she had missed all the  
first intimate touches between a mother and child, but was anxious to  
finally reap the rewards for her labour and sacrifice. "Know that your  
friend Usagi is still a part of me, but I have been through a lot lately  
and need some time to deal with everything. Could you please excuse us for  
a while?"  
  
"Of course", replied Sailor Jupiter, speaking for the others. The  
awful fate of the world had shaken her more badly than she could ever have  
imagined. She had never dreamed that the beautiful Crystal Tokyo they had  
visited all those years ago had been attained at such a cost. She tried to  
add some levity to the situation. "Those lovebirds have some serious  
hanky-panky to get down to!" Her joke failed miserably, but the others  
nodded their agreement. As they turned to leave, Chibi-Usa left the spot  
where she had been standing transfixed through all the events and ran up to  
her father.  
  
"Daddy", she asked, tugging on his pant leg, looking with a scared  
glance towards Neo-Queen Serenity. "Who's that lady?"  
  
** FINIS **  
  
  
--------------- -------------------  
  
  
  
Special Thanks to Naoko Takeuchi for creating the milieu.  
  
  
To Tim Nolan and Chris Davies, for showing what was possible.  
  
  
To Sherri-Lee Thornton and Ken Wolfe, my prereaders, both talented authors  
in their own right, for encouragement and support and for sticking with me  
for two years  
  
To Victor Naqvi and Elizabeth Tuckwood, whose invaluable criticisms kept me  
honest.  
  
  
To the rock group Live, for the genesis of the story.  
  
  
To all fanfic writers everywhere, who keep the torch burning  
  
  
And to all readers out there - we do it for you.  
  
  
John Hitchens, 1997-98  
john.hitchens@sympatico.ca  
  



End file.
